


If We Shadows

by clutzycricket



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Dysfunctional Family, Family Feels, Lovecraftian Monster(s), Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-24
Updated: 2019-01-11
Packaged: 2019-07-16 10:45:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 45,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16084532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clutzycricket/pseuds/clutzycricket
Summary: A few days after Harry Potter receives his first letter, Minerva McGonagall delivers a letter to a peculiar island named Dragonstone, where a young girl named Minisa Targaryen is about to turn eleven.No one is quite prepared for what happens next.





	1. When Wishes Still Worked

Chapter One- When Wishes Still Work

It was best to arrive on a weekday that was not the child’s birthday, Minerva McGonagall had been told by her predecessor. Far less chance of a party, which meant fewer awkward guests to work around when explaining about Hogwarts.

Clearly, though, this could not work every time. A perfect example was this house, which was enormous and seemed to loom over the island community down the hill. There was a large amount of very different vehicles, and she wondered if she should rearrange her schedule to come later.

Of course, the situation with Mr. Potter was starting to alarm her, and if she needed to step in, she should try not to make her schedule even more impossible.

The dilemma was solved for her when the door opened and a young man peered curiously at her. “Hello, then. Did Dad- sorry, Dr. Targaryen- ask for you to come?”

“Oh, that _would_ be like him to forget that today is Minnie’s birthday,” came a low female voice from behind Minerva. Minerva turned to see a woman leaning against an odd little vehicle.

They were siblings, most likely- the two had the same enormous dark eyes and tightly curling hair sweeping back from a widow’s peak, the same slightly worrying sense of grace. The man’s hair was a peculiar shade of blonde, almost metallic, while the woman’s seemed to absorb the sunlight.

Minisa Targaryen was the name on the envelope. They were older than she’d normally assume siblings for a new Hogwarts’ student would be, both perhaps thirty.

“I am here for Minisa Targaryen?” she said.

They looked at each other, the woman raising her eyebrows and the man giving a shrug. The woman sighed and then the man let out a laugh.

Well, Minerva thought, hair rising on the back of her neck, it was technically a laugh. There was something peculiar about it, like bells- as metallic as his hair and not quite something that should come from a human throat.

“She’s inside, if you will follow me?” The woman said, smiling. There was something sharp about the woman’s teeth, and she nearly makes an excuse to leave. “My stepmother is holding a birthday dinner for Minnie, so we were coming to help set up.”

“Speak for youself, Rhae,” the man snorted. “I’m here to snag Senya and the twins and dump them in the park.”

“I will tell our mother on you,” she said. “You aren’t too old for it.”

The door swung further open. “Our mother will understand.” He didn’t sound fully convinced though. “Min! Lysa, there’s a visitor for Min!”

The hall was larger than it should be, rising up into shadows not softened by the brightly patterned carpet or a large coat rack strewn with leftover bits of coats and scarves. There was one doorway a bit down, with soft sunlight streaming through.

A girl ran into the hall from that doorway, pale red hair like a beacon. She was a sweet looking girl, as tall as her sister but a good deal more substantial, and without those unsettling dark eyes.

“Who are you?” she asked. “Mum doesn’t like strangers.”

“Your mother doesn’t like much,” the young man murmured. His sister elbowed him, possibly the most human gesture she’d seen from them yet.

“My name is Professor Minerva McGonagall, and I need to speak with you and your parents,” Minerva managed.

“Okay, so Mum then,” the girl said. “Dad won’t be pried out of the library until the twins are ready for dinner.”

“I’ll get him,” the woman said, gliding past them. “Min, you should take your mother to the sea study. Aegon, can you get…”

“Got it, got it, Rhae,” he said, waving her off. “After Lysa gets here, though.”

“Of course,” the woman- Rhae- said, smiling at McGonagall. “I’m sorry, it shouldn’t usually be this mad, but we had to line up all of our schedules.”

“And neither Danny has shown up,” Aegon muttered.

“Margie will make sure Danelle is here on time,” said someone else, coming around the same doorway. This was a perfectly ordinary seeming woman with a darker version of her daughter’s red hair, beaming blue eyes, and a set of what seemed to be half-polished stones worn in long wire necklaces. “Hello, I’m Lysa, and you are…?”

“A professor for Min,” Aegon said, looking at a another corner of the room. “Rhaenys went to get our father. She said she’d take him to the sea study.”

“I wish her the best of luck,” Lysa said, primly. “I like that room, your father likes his library.”

“The books eat people,” Minisa told Minerva seriously.

She doesn’t remember terribly much after that, though she spends the evening with a good bottle of liquor and a desire to not think on it again. The Targaryen girl was sweet and slightly shy, and she would be coming to Hogwarts on the first. That was the end of it.

~

The Targaryens formed Dragonstone Island centuries back, in a peculiar place between the normal world and… elsewhere. The exact methods for this became shrouded in myth, but some claim the island was sung up from the sea, when the Old Ones ruled in the more shadowy areas of the human world.

Some people say a dragon and its rider crashed after one too many bottles of blood wine, and declared that it was now theirs.

Which interpretation is more popular depends on the current Lord of the island.

Diredragons and other fell creatures seem to be frozen in stone along the roof and towers of Dragonstone House, and the occupants have not seemed to lost any of their true power over the years, even as the dragons fell away.

The inhabitants of the island have come to a mostly easy coexistence with them, finding that many of the true irritants of the modern world- anti vaccination fanatics, telemarketers, and tax audits- leave the island well enough alone. Unlike the wizarding folk, the island does possess some of its perks- a large lending library, television, and easy access to take-away.  

Outsiders have two very different reactions. The first, for those who are sensible and solid individuals, is a sort of creeping horror. Their minds would shy away from what they are sensing, and the longer they try to come to terms with the sense of wrongness, the more their mind rebels. For children, inoculation comes naturally, and each successive generation becomes more accustomed to it.

The second category is the desperate or the unstable, the people who see the Old Ones in their terrible power and find that something calls to them. This category was responsible for a good portion of the newcomers to the island, with those who do not settle in shipped to the Starks in their dreary little village on the mainland.

There was, however, very little interaction with wizards and wand-wavers. Perhaps it was the occasionally uncertain position of the island with regards to the “real world”. Perhaps it was the Shadowbinders.

Perhaps Dragonstone Island was merely lucky, until Minisa Targaryen was given a Hogwarts Letter and the Lord of the Iron Throne, the Silver Dragon, and Master of Dragonstone decided that it would be a good idea to send his youngest child there.

His wife, entirely human and possessive of her children, disagreed, but there was little that would change his mind, so she resigned herself to her daughter’s fate and her husband resigned himself to the guest bedroom until the New Year.

~

Mum had to do something for the twins’ schooling on the same day, and Dad was _useless_ at remembering things like times and dates. Rhaenys would have taken her, and she could have spent the night at Stargazer. But Rhaenys had been called on assignment, and Aegon was shacked to his project, and Mum said that no, Visenya was _not_ old enough to take her sister to London, she was barely old enough for uni. Which had started a row, because Senya liked getting angry. Jon had managed to rearrange his schedule enough to swing taking her to London that morning, and Minisa tried not to feel too guilty about the circles under his eyes.

“Listen, squirt,” he said, making room so Min wasn’t squashed by other passengers with an absent wave of a hand and the sudden chill in the area. “We are going to find this. We are not going to call Rhae and Aegon’s uncle, and no one is going to mock us endlessly for it.”

She nodded. “Well, it’s magic, right?” The poor Professor wasn’t someone who could take Dragonstone well, even with the snapdragon tea that Aegon had brought up. She’d thought she’d caught the details right, but Mum had been fussing about her baby leaving and trying to embarrass Min as much as possible. She was pretty sure Dad had… persuaded Mum to let Min go, which probably would mean a ginormous fight in a week or so when it wore off. “So it must be hidden. Maybe it’s a test!”

Her eye was caught by a boy with an owl in a cage, looking perfectly miserable. The man next to him was doing proper villain gloating, and the phrase “Platform Nine and Three-Quarters” was said before he left, and he went over to a railway employee.

Before she could go over and say hello, there was someone who was clearly a Parent who looked at the boy with a faint frown and then started speaking loudly to her children, all with hair as red as Min’s own. Redder even, like her cousin Robb or Uncle Edmure. She was talking about Hogwarts and muggles and other things she and Dad had heard when they went to Diagon Alley with Rhaenys and a letter from her uncle.

(Rhaenys and Aegon didn’t know exactly how Oberyn Martell knew about wizards, and Dad said it probably involved stuff that Mum didn’t want her to hear about until she was thirty. So… probably sex stuff? Or at least Dad thought it was- Jon mentioned that Dad and Mr. Martell _really, really, really_ didn’t like each other.)

“We could ask her,” Jon suggested, shrugging.

A crowd of tourists managed to power through Jon’s bubble, with loud and peculiar American accents and trodding on Minisa’s foot and sending her crashing into something hard.

“Are you alright?” the boy with the owl asked.

“Ow,” Minisa managed, gently trying to feel the lump on her head. “I think so.” She’d be fine in a moment, really. “Is your owl alright?”

“Hedwig’s fine,” the boy said, and Minisa looked at him curiously. He had bright green eyes magnified a bit by taped-together glasses- she hoped there was an easy spell to fix those, trying to get new ones in a rather lonely school might be tricky. His hair looked like he had stuck a finger in a light socket- Alyx had done that once, so she knew what it looked like. He was darker than Aegon or Rhaenys, close to Little Elia and her mom.

His clothes also looked worse than Rhaenys’ gardening rags, even if they didn’t smell like bone meal.

“I’m Min Targaryen, and this is my brother Jon,” she said. “Are you going to Hogwarts too? Only we don’t exactly know how…”

“I’m not going,” Jon said. “Strictly getting you to the train so my stepmother doesn’t murder me.”

Minisa rolled her eyes. “Mum wouldn’t… okay, maybe she would.”

“She would,” Jon said, watching as another of the redheaded boys went through. Their mother was splitting her attention between the boys and them.

“We should ask,” Minisa said, pulling her trolley. “And what’s your name?”

“Harry,” the boy said, before reaching the woman. “Excuse me,” he said, hesitantly.

“Hello, dears,” she said, smiling at them. “First time at Hogwarts? Ron is new too…”

The boy in question was tall as Cousin Robb, though that might be that he was spidery-gangly. He was also covered in freckles.

The woman explained that someone got into the platform by walking straight through it and not hesitating.

Harry went first, and Jon was looking ready to cast another, stronger circle to avoid notice. The witch helping them would probably react badly, though, so Minisa hoped he didn’t.

Minisa pushed through the crowds, seeing them change angles as she kept moving, and went through the platform, watching brick melt into a sunny platform.

Stargazer was almost like that, only with the Valyrian steel gates. And with no steam and a lot less noise.

Jon followed suit a moment later, watching them nervously. Stargazer, she remembered, didn’t like him very much.

“You’re both alright, then?” he asked.

“Yes,” Minisa said. “You can help us get our trunks on the train, though.”

He looked at the trucks with a skeptical look. “My question is, if there is all of these magical doorways and shops, why did no one bother to invent a trunk that doesn’t weigh less than a dead dragon?”

“That,” Minisa said, in her best imitation of Aunt Cat, “would be the sensible thing to do.”

Jon managed to haul hers up first, carrying it partially over his shoulder somehow. He was also terribly oblivious to the older girls and some of the mums watching him appreciatively, since he’d shown up wearing one of his old tight workout shirts and jeans.

At least Aegon didn’t come. That might start a riot.

The twins with Ron noticed them and helped grab Harry’s trunk. Minisa took Hedwig for him, because Dad hadn’t let her get a pet.

Jon and the twins helped set the trunks down in the last car, and Harry went to get his hair of his eyes- it really did need to either be cut or do what Dad did and grow into a ponytail- revealing a thin, silvery scar-web.

Minisa frowned, wondering if she should ask Jon to ask Aegon about it. There was something cold, almost about it, and not like the stones at home in winter, but more like something frozen before it got stinky and moldy.

“Harry Potter?” one of the twins said, and she had more questions now, didn’t she.

Well, she told herself, at least the wizards seem to have forgotten about Dragonstone. That was probably good.

She waved to Jon as the train pulled out of the station.

~

Minisa frowned as they went through the line. Aegon said you should be careful about things you let read your mind. But if they did it to everyone…

Well, she’d probably not tell Mum. Ron was right behind her, since not too many people had last names that started with U or V, and he was still upset about his brothers lying to him.

“Yes,” she whispered, “older brothers are stupid. But did you really want to fight one before we even learned a spell?”

That earned her a cross look before he gave a nod. “Guess not,” he said.

Hermione was up, and there was a pause before the Hat sent her to the not-actually-Lannister table. No one had fishes or dragons, so she contented herself with trying to guess which of her brothers and sisters would go where when Neville-with-the-toad argued silently with the Hat.

That awful bully and his friends were all sent to Slytherin, which had the green-and-silver that would probably get her twins. And maybe Jon? She wasn’t sure. Dad would get the book house, no doubt, and Senya would get the lions.

Rhaenys was a bit trickier- she didn’t shout, or like being smarter, but she couldn’t just put her in Hufflepuff, as much as she suspected Rhaenys would have had fun there. She liked being tricky, which Min never really got.

Harry went up, and seemed to be talking to the Hat.

“I thought he’d go straight to Gryffindor,” Ron whispered to her.

“People are complicated,” Min quoted. “Look at Neville.”

Ron paused and shrugged. “Guess.”

Harry went to Gryffindor with a load of shouts, including some from Ron’s brothers and a slight, nervous smile from Hermione.

Professor McGonagall’s eye twitched a little bit when she called Minisa’s name, and Min skipped up. She didn’t bother being boring- they all wanted this over with, and her family wasn’t here to see where she went.

The Hat let out a screech that was probably just internal, given the fact that when she peeked over the brim no one was looking worried.

“What… do you know, I’m just going to tuck you in Gryffindor, they’ll deal with it later,” the Hat said after a long moment of silence.

Sorry, she thought at the Hat.

It did sound a bit shaky when it finished up, though. Well, it was probably a good thing she was so close to the end of the line.

~

Professor Snape, for whatever reason, didn’t like Harry.

(Professor Snape, the Weasley twins had added, looked like a bat. Minisa had to disagree. Bats were adorable when they weren’t rabid.)

He was rude, and acted like he enjoyed having power over kids. Based on some of the comments made by the older Gryffindors, Snape was basically allowed to do what he wanted, too.

And Minisa knew the answers to the questions he asked- she couldn’t have Rhaenys for a sister and not know asphodel- and she raised her hand, like Hermione.

Parvati stepped on her foot when she was about to say something.

“He’s doing it on purpose,” the other girl muttered. “We’ll lose points on our first lesson if we say something now.”

“We’ll all lose points anyway at this rate,” Minisa muttered. Senya would say something. Jon would say something.

Rhaenys and Dad would make a list, though, and make sure they had enough facts to shut down anyone who tried to argue. Mum did it too, sometimes, and said it helped her keep her head straight when she got too mad to think.

So they’d need to keep a list- if they all did it, it couldn’t hurt, right?

She glared at Snape anyway when he tried to look her in the eyes.

He stumbled and bumped into Neville’s cauldron, sending the partially made solution flying over himself.

~

Minisa Targaryen was the youngest of her family. This was something she accepted- Rhaenys did not seem terribly interested in marriage yet, and Aegon and Jon were incurably hopeless in her eyes. (And, though she didn’t know the term “whiskey dick” or “trash fire”, Viserys was not likely to interest anyone seriously.) So she would not have any nieces or nephews to take the youngest title away for a while.

A Targaryen usually came into the bulk of their power around sixteen or so, though flare ups occurred a few years before this. This fact had been why Lysa Tully had been able to accompany her daughter to King’s Cross. Her twins, Alyx and Alyssa, were fourteen and just starting the first flashes of accidental power. Even in a town as accustomed to the Targaryens, and though they did not show the power of their siblings, it was a tricky little tangle that made her life difficult.

The question of what to do when Minisa’s power started to flare had not been dealt with to anyone’s satisfaction, mostly because no one had enough of the picture to do so. Anchored in the halls of Dragonstone, it should flicker and splash harmlessly on the walls.

At a school where no one really knew about the quirks of Dragonstone or the Targaryens, and the children’s real limits on their destructiveness was their curiosity, temper and knowledge? Somewhere, Aegon Targaryen was wincing. At least she wasn’t able to do too much yet.

With that being said, trying to peek into an Old Ones’ mind, even a very young Old One, was perhaps not the brightest of moves.

“Not the brightest of moves”, in this case, meaning that the mild reaction was a splitting migraine and bizarre nightmares over the next week. The potion accident was a related byproduct, but not actually a direct result.

Unfortunately for his well being, Professor Snape was not a terribly easygoing man, and he was not going to admit defeat to an eleven year old girl.

~

Minisa looked curiously at them. “Have you seen Hermione? Lavender and Parvati said she was crying.”

Harry looked guiltily at Ron, who gave them both a sullen look.

“I wasn’t wrong,” he protested.

Minisa frowned, and Harry bit back a sigh. He liked his friends, he really did, but Min dug in and Ron knew it.

“I said she was a nightmare and that was the reason she had no friends, and it’s true,” Ron said. He looked like he knew he shouldn’t have said it, either time.

Harry thought he could almost smell something wet and mossy, and one of the seventh-years got up from near them and moved to the other end of the table.

“That was rude,” Minisa said, sounding deeply angry. “I know she corrected you, but maybe tell her that she could tell you alone. She’s my friend, Ron.”

“That’s because... “ Ron was thankfully prevented from continuing by virtue of the doors to the Great Hall slamming open, and Professor Quirrell announcing there was a troll in the dungeon.

“They’re taking us through the castle?” Ron frowned. “We have to go past the troll?”

“We have to get Hermione,” Harry said.

“And where is she?” Min asked, looking between them.

“Girls bathroom,” Ron said, after a moment.

Minisa stood up, and they followed her. “Which girl’s bathroom?” she asked, after they snuck away from the rest of them.

“By the Charm’s classroom?” Harry guessed.

Minisa sighed, and they both followed her up towards the Charms classroom, keeping a wary watch for trolls.

Harry pushed the bathroom door open, to find a still upset Hermione.

~

Some things are inevitable. A troll, a levitation charm, a lie, all coming together to cement a friendship.

Some things- a pair of uncanny blue eyes in a young girl’s face, sending three of her teachers faintly green, a sharp scream that made the water in the sinks and toilets turn into acid, a hastily aimed spell to cover the damage- were part and parcel of the strangeness that the Targaryens brought in their wake.

As was Minisa, looking nervously at her friends and muttering about what her mother would say.

~

“So,” Minisa frowned at Hermione. “We know someone is trying to do something.”

Hermione opened her mouth. Harry shook his head, so she stayed silent. Minisa seemed flighty, but she liked breaking things down into bits. Maybe it would help them find out what. The other girl was curled up on one of the armchairs, biting her lip and somehow making it so no one else was nearby.

“We know that Hagrid knows what it is, because he got it out when he took Harry to Gringott’s,” she said finally.

“And that someone tried to steal it,” Harry added. “But Hagrid had already gotten it.”

“Already been told to get it,” Hermione corrected.

“Who told him, though, and did they know someone was going to steal it?” Ron scowled. “And why is there a giant three-headed dog in the school?”

“Cerebus,” Minisa said, eyes narrowed. “The dog that guards the Greek underworld. I think I can get a book from Dad about it.”

“So it’s a guard,” Harry said. “So it’s watching the thing Hagrid took from Gringotts.”

“But who wants it?” Hermione frowned. “And why aren’t the teachers doing anything?”

“Hermione,” Minisa pointed out, “Ron was right. He pointed out that the teachers wanted to take us out from being all together in one room with heavy doors and drag us all through the castle when a troll was on the loose!”

Minisa’s mother hadn’t liked that story, Hermione remembered. “So why are we the ones going to fix it?”

“Because usually these things end up trying to kill everyone if they aren’t stopped before it gets bad,” Minisa said, nodding her head.

“And who else is going to,” Harry added. “So we know it involves Nicholas Flamel, so we can try and look it up over the holidays.”

Minisa bit her lip. “Dad might have something in his library. Or Aegon might know. You know, you can all come visit for Christmas. Mum wouldn’t mind, and Dad… probably wouldn’t notice.”

They declined, not entirely certain they wanted to deal with a large family of Minisas.

~

There was a dragon, there was a Targaryen.

There were more Targaryens, because while Ron’s brother Charlie worked with dragons, he was also in Romania and Hagrid’s house was made of wood.

They waited one evening at Hagrid’s hut, the Gamekeeper waiting nervously until Fang sat up and let out a little whimper, before his tail wagged.

“Oh, good,” Minisa said, running to the door.

Harry blinked at the small woman at the door. Her silver-blonde hair was chopped short, and her face was pale and delicate, with enormous eyes of neon purple. She seemed to take up all of the focus in a room, while she stared curiously at Norbert.

“Hello,” she said, and suddenly Harry realized she was wearing a hoodie and ripped jeans, which somehow took him out of his daze.

“This is our Aunt Daenerys,” said a man who Harry recognized as Min’s brother Jon, who had a large carrying case that seemed to hum a little. “She’s Dad’s younger sister. I’m one of Minisa’s older brothers, I supposedly work for the police, and yet I am helping smuggle a dragon.”

“Dragons are not banned creatures, at least by laws that we recognize,” Daenerys said, raising her eyebrows. “And I agreed to warn you about the next big article I wrote.”

“If you know that it will effect a case of mine,” Jon said, looking down at her with amusement. “If being the key word? So when you don’t check too closely, you don’t have to let me know.”

Daenerys chose to focus on Norbert. “Oh, you are a sweetheart, aren’t you?”

Hagrid looking a great deal more content with Daenerys’ clear adoration of Norbert.

This should, one would think, keep them out of the forest, away from dying unicorns and centaurs.

This would be true, but for Snape trying to figure out what was going on with Minisa again. This time, there was a medium sized fire, the potions classroom was declared uninhabitable for two weeks, and Malfoy was missing his eyebrows.

Neville had a nasty burn on his right arm, which was rather more noticable, but Professor Snape did not seem to care terribly about this.

He did, however, assign detention to Minisa, Harry, Hermione, and Ron. Not that he had proof of some misdeed, but he declared it had to be their fault somehow, and they should stop covering for each other.

Malfoy somehow got detention, though none of them quite paid attention as to how.

Professor McGonagall, wincing, had kept Minisa out of the forest. She did not want to know what would happen if the girl went in. Ents, perhaps.

~

Minisa frowned at the flames. “Harry, you will be alright.” She looked at him, and something in her expression made Harry very sure that he was in fact going to get out of this in one piece. There was a fading bruise on her cheek where a key had hit, her knuckles had blood sticking to them, and her hair was a wreck, but there was something about her words that set him down what felt like an easy, level path.

Hermione gave Minisa a skeptical look.

“You just said I was great, Hermione,” Harry pointed out.

“No, that wasn’t it,” Hermione said, shaking her head. “We’ll get Ron to the hospital wing, and get a teacher.”

“A useful teacher,” Min said, smiling serenely.

Somehow, when he woke up, he wasn’t terribly surprised to see Min napping on the chair next to him, her hair loose and covering her face. Professor Dumbledore, watching Min like she was a puzzle, that was a surprise.

He saw, half-hidden under red-gold hair, a blue eye focused on the headmaster when he answered Harry’s questions.

~

Minisa and Hermione had written their phone numbers down for Harry and Ron, who looked mildly baffled as he looked over Hermione’s hair.

“Who is Mum talking to?” he asked, looking at the Twins.

“Dunno,” Fred said, looking at the woman, who was wearing muggle clothes and had long, dark red hair. “Someone’s mother, I’d say.”

“Seems obvious,” George agreed.

“My mum,” Min said, looking at the woman, who did have Minisa’s wide blue eyes and tilted-up nose.  She winced. “She’s not going to be happy about the Troll. Or the whole thing with Quirrell. Or a lot of things.”

“You’re coming back, though?” Harry asked.

“Oh, yes,” Minisa nodded her head jerkily. “Though I may drag you to Dragonstone and help?”

They all nodded. “Of course,” Hermione said. “Friends do that. Right?”

“We do,” Harry said, privately wondering if the Dursleys might try again to keep him away from school.

He’d make it there somehow.


	2. Sit Crooked and Talk Straight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quick note on formatting- the odd numbered chapters are the longer, Hogwarts Year Oriented chapters. The even numbered chapters are shorter and meant as a snapshot of the wider world.

**  
**Arya was holding open his fridge, eyebrows raised and giving him a judging look. “So, Minnie Mouse and her little band of magic friends managed to get through a series of traps meant to stop an evil wizard.”

“Rhaenys thinks most of it was probably delaying and window dressing compared to the main trap,” Jon said. “Get me a beer?”

“You drink your beer cold?” Arya sighed. “I worry about you.”

“Aegon and I hid our beer in the Windward tower, it tended to get very cold,” Jon shrugged. “Plus I tend to freeze them when I get drunk anyway.”

“You are as depressing as Sansa says you are,” Arya grumbled. Considering her habit of wandering around in snowstorms wearing work out shorts, she really didn't have room to talk. “Does anyone know about this wizard thing?”

“Aegon’s uncle,” Jon shrugged. “Aegon is looking into it, trying to see if we interacted with them before. Sam and Sarella suggested that they basically isolated themselves back when the Stuarts were on the throne, I think, and no one seemed to connect Min’s name to Dragonstone.”

“Because there weren’t any angry mobs?” Arya pulled out two bottles. “Seriously, you have better taste than Robb in beer. That is all I can say for you.”

“Ygritte got it for me,” Jon said, looking at the ceiling to miss Arya’s expression. “I’m pretty sure this is all going to shit.”

“Probably,” Arya agreed, flopping down on the wobbly chair and managing not to send everything falling down to the floor. “So Minnie went and adopted the kids, then?”

Jon opened his mouth, closed it, and then his head just… fell to the table as he sat down. It helped, somehow. He wasn’t sure how, but it did. “One of them is apparently worse than Dad about books, one is fairly normal for wizards, and the last of them apparently was marked for death by a not-entirely-dead evil wizard,” he told the stains on his table.

“Well,” Arya said, with the sort of reflectiveness that made him straighten up and look at her with well-justified suspicion, “at least it won’t be boring.”

...He really wanted to throw his beer at her.


	3. Snakes, Liars, and Dragon's Fire

Danelle Tully narrowed her eyes when her baby sister tried to explain everything.

This, it must be said, was a perfectly fair reaction.

“Wait, wait, the fuck?” she said, running her hand through her choppy hair.

Before we continue any further, a few things must be said about Danelle Tully. Her biological father had started to admit he had a daughter when she was eight. It was not a coincidence that this was about the time that Rhaegar had proposed to Lysa.

As a result, Danelle decided to be the opposite of what Petyr Baelish wanted in a daughter. This explained the penchant for spiky, peculiar haircuts and very prominent piercings, which she found she liked. It also explained why she was content with being a tattoo artist, running a shop on the mainland.

It was, however, a coincidence that she loved women. She was actually thinking about marrying Margaery Tyrell, a very sweet, polite woman who knew what she wanted and was almost Targaryen in habit of getting it.

Danelle, as a consequence, had a knack for bluntness that most of her siblings lacked.

“They locked him in his room for three days,” Danelle repeated, pinching her nose. “Fed him through a catflap, and put bars on his windows. How did no one notice the bars? Can we just lock them in a room with Mum and hide the bodies later?”

“The Weasley brothers rescued him,” Minisa reminded her. “So he’s staying with them for the rest of the summer, but Ron doesn’t know if they actually believe him about the bars.”

“Because he stole the car,” Danelle nodded, trying to get past that fact. “And you want to meet with your friends to go school shopping.”

“Yes,” Minisa nodded. “Besides, Hermione and her parents are going to be there, and they don’t know a lot about wizards, either.”

“And Dad won’t take you?” Danelle paused and reflected on the bit where one of her little friends had been nearly murdered multiple times, there had been a Cerebus, a creature killing unicorns, and a murderous chess board.

Yes, Danelle had to admit, doing something that would make their father actually look at what was going on would be a bad idea. Besides, she told herself, the Macguffin that the kids had been trying to protect was gone. It wouldn’t happen again this year.

This, Danelle would later admit, was just tempting fate.

“Fine,” she said. “Mum coming?” Danelle loved her mum, really. It had mostly been Mum and Dani, when she was tiny, with help from Uncle Bryn and Aunt Shella, and while Rhaegar Targaryen had treated her like his own in all the ways that mattered- including asking her, very solemnly when she was thirteen, if she wanted a formal adoption- and while Aegon, Rhaenys, and Jon had gleefully accepted a sister- she and Mum had been the humans in the center of the crazy.

That being said, Lysa was also dramatic, overbearing, and more than a bit zany.

“We are keeping Mum from the wizards as much as possible,” Minisa nodded. “So it’ll be Aegon.”

“Makes sense,” Danelle nodded. Rhae had been the serious one that Mum let get away with murder, but Aegon or Jon would make her feel safer. It wouldn’t be that bad.

And really, she’d tell Marg later, watching Aegon stare down the weird probably-evil wizard and the bubble gum blonde Van Helsing wannabe, that was really good entertainment.

~

“ _A flying car_?” Minisa looked at Hermione with wide eyes. When she heard the rumor, she saw Fred and George look at each other in surprise. What on earth had they needed to use a flying car for?

She decided to try and redirect the subject. “Do you know what my brothers would do for a flying car?” She paused. “Or Mum. She doesn’t like traffic.”

Hermione paused before pointing out that Mrs. Targaryen was a muggle. She’d gone looking for things about people with peculiar eyes, who made the universe go a little funny and after visiting Minisa for a week she’d stumbled upon the works of HP Lovecraft.

And while the Targaryens seemed to make people go a little crazy when they weren’t careful, and they definitely had power, even if they weren’t wizards, and they had a community beyond the sea…

The stories seemed wrong, and left her feeling faintly slimy and unsettled. Minisa wouldn’t hurt them- that much was something Hermione just knew.

She’d come very close to throwing the book of stories against the wall, both for being useless and for the phrases and characters that said things she knew were wrong and untrue and trying to show characters like her through a distorted and evil reflection.

“They’re alright, though,” she said, after a moment. Her father would like a flying car, but her mother hated heights, which was a sensible position that Hermione very much agreed with.

“Why did they go flying, though?” Parvati asked. She was looking around, counting. “I saw Min come in, and Ron’s brothers and sister. Hermione was on the train.”

Minisa and Hermione looked at each other. Hermione was trying to figure out why, exactly, this would be happening. Minisa was thinking on the fact that if Aunt Dany had been stuck at the train station with a bunch of wizards, there would probably be a sudden insurrection. She wasn’t sure how, but Aunt Dany was good at that.

“We’ll get the story from them,” Hermione said after a long moment. Ginny was looking nervous, still, biting her lip.

~

Hermione was furious at Ron and Harry, but Minisa was pretty sure she had also been terrified. Part of this was being the youngest child of a wildly overprotective mother. Part of this was also watching Hermione bite her lip and mutter about where they could be, and could the Trolley Witch (Stella, a very nice woman in Minisa’s opinion) possibly help search the train?

Ron didn’t deal well with people criticizing him in front of an audience, which Minisa also got as being the youngest child of a wildly overprotective mother. However, when Minisa glared at someone, they found something else to do. Usually in a different part of the castle. It gave her an advantage over Ron.

“I have a very important request,” she said, feeling like she should do something.

“What?” Harry asked, looking hopeful that someone could calm down the tension.

“My mother is never allowed to know that Howlers exist,” she said, very seriously.

“Your mum seemed nice,” Harry said, not entirely protesting. He rubbed one of his ears absently.

“My mother has a panic disorder,” Minisa said, gloomily. It was mentioned a lot in Dragonstone. Senya made jokes about Mrs. Bennett from Pride and Prejudice and how they had to live with her nerves. “If I’m here, I don’t have to hear her. If she knows about Howlers…”

The others thought about how often there was trouble. They really didn’t want Howlers that often.

Again, the fact that Mrs. Targaryen was a muggle didn’t cross anyone’s mind.

~

Hermione raised her eyebrows at Minisa, who had taken the idea of a Deathday party with a worrying amount of calm. Cheer, even.

“Mum lived in Harrenhal before she met Dad, and that place is full of ghosts and creepy-crawlies,” Minisa shrugged. “Mum takes us all to visit Aunt Shella and Lady Danelle- not my sister, the other… tall redhead named Danelle. This one is not actually related to me.”

Hermione would have been surprised with how easily she would have accepted that Lady Danelle had been dead for quite a few decades. She would possibly have been a bit more surprised that the dead woman had been romancing the widowed Shella Whent since just after Mr. Whent had conveniently died.

Her friend had brought a sequined red-and-blue tote bag with a dragon on it. It looked heavy, as well.

“Alyx gets angry when he hasn’t eaten, so we learned to smuggle actually edible food in to places where it would be boring or bad,” Minisa added, placing two apples, a wrapped sandwich, and a muggle water bottle inside. “I can maybe fit a notebook in here, if you want. And I brought a flask of that squash soup you like, and a roll.”

“Shouldn’t we try to bring food for the boys?” Hermione asked. If there wasn’t any food, Ron would be miserable at everyone.

“Neville agreed to bring us some stuff, and I think the others decided a late night feast was even better than one in the Great Hall, so…” Minisa shrugged. “We’ll have a second party, just… the boys don’t know it yet?”

Hermione rolled her eyes.Well, she supposed, they probably deserved it. Besides, she was fairly sure Minisa had packed things for all of them.

She paused. “Do you have any other advice?”

Minisa bit her lip, looking terribly like a normal person at that moment. Hermione almost forgot that she’d managed to make blood spill out of the sink the day before.

“This is more a Rhaenys area,” she said. “I probably should have written her.”

Hermione wondered if she really wanted to meet more of Minisa’s family. Or even just know more about them.

Probably not. She probably would, though.

“She’d say to bring something warm,” Minisa said finally. “The dead can get cold.”

Hermione, who had found something red and woolly to throw on, was very grateful for both the advice and the soup.

Sadly, Minisa’s planning did not include finding Mrs. Norris dangling from a light fixture outside a flooded bathroom.

When Filch was throwing accusations, though, Harry scowled when even Dumbledore flicked uneasy eyes at Minisa.

They all launched into an explanation about the Deathday Party and the ghosts, and the slow feeling of having been far too kind to Nearly-Headless Nick.

When Snape, glaring malevolently between Harry and Minisa, had asked why they didn’t return to the Halloween Feast, Hermione smiled.

“We weren’t sure if the Feast would be over,” she said, because that had been mostly true. “And we brought food along to eat at the Deathday Party.”

Which, she admitted to herself, had actually been fairly easy to consume. Most of the ghosts stayed far away from Minisa. The living students had therefore all stuck fairly closely to her, because it kept them from freezing.

“And where did you get this food?” Snape asked.

“I asked at the kitchens last Sunday,” Minisa said, blinking up at him. Ron, who recognized that expression from when someone was about to walk into a trap, tried and failed not to snigger. “The house elves said it was allowed, because some students have restrictions, and others might not be able to attend the noisier meals.”

They were finally allowed to go, though Harry looked at them.

“D’you think I should have told them about that voice I heard?” Harry asked.

“No,” Ron said quickly, “Hearing voices no one else can hear isn’t a good sign, even in the wizarding world.”

“No,” Minisa said at the same time. “Professor Snape would have used it against you.”

“Maybe let the Headmaster know later?” Hermione suggested. “If it does help?”

“You do believe me, don’t you?” Harry sounded a bit desperate to his own ears.

“I’ve heard weirder,” Minisa shrugged. The other two looked at Minisa, then at each other, and said nothing.

It didn’t really help his case, after all.

~

Minisa didn’t mean to, really. Annoying Professor Snape when he tried to read her mind and pin down what she was? She could explain that to her father easily enough.

But there was something wrong about the Lockhart thing. There were the pixies, for starters.

And yes, most of them had listened when she shouted at them to shut up and get back in their cages. (And she was actually really glad that had happened after most of the class had fled. She’d maybe gone a bit overboard, given the trembling and Ron looking as pale as Nearly Headless Nick.)

She didn’t like Lockhart, either. He was slick like… like a horrible cross between Varys and Danelle’s horrible biodad. (He was horrible- Aunt Cat’s mouth went like she bit a lemon whenever he was mentioned, and apparently he made Dad grumpy. Like, actual focused grumpiness. It took Oberyn Martell to make Dad that cranky, normally, and he actually provoked it.)

And then he started using Harry like a prop. Which was just rude, and when she wrote to Senya about it, she said it was probably a sign that he wanted to try and humiliate Harry.

(At this point, a cautious word about Visenya Targaryen and her legendary levels of cynicism must be stated. Also, her fondness for butterfly knives. This word is now said.)

And, all of the Gryffindor Second Years could agree, Harry really didn’t need that sort of thing. He didn’t need Lockhart trying to paint him as being fame-hungry. Professor Snape did that well enough on his own, thank you very much. And, Ron, Hermione, and Minisa agreed, the thing with the creature in the walls was too stressful as it was.

Plus there was that bit about people starting to think Harry was the Heir to Slytherin, which the Gryffindors who knew him had to laugh about. Harry, it was agreed, was shy and sweet and pretty much the last person anyone would think was capable of being a secret supervillian. He’d hate the speeches.

There had been a sort of non-organized whispering session to determine if Minisa was the Heir, but she was muggleborn, silly, and altogether a different type of weird. So probably not.

So when they were confronted by the stupidity of Professor Lockhart, she found herself playing… tricks. Kind of. She’d need a better word for it if Aegon started looking down his nose at her. He got fussy about misusing their powers. And she shouldn’t start any sort of flare ups for another year or so. Dany had been fire-touched since she was very small, true, and Rhaenys had probably spoken to the dead since she was able to talk, but still. Thirteen or so was the usual age for this sort of thing. Alyx and Alyssa hadn’t started showing major power until last year. But somehow his chalk turned to cheese, the windows turned to water,  and his teacher’s desk started growing ironwood stalks.

The last was both the most interesting and the worst, because the desk was not in fact made of ironwood, and the roots had somehow gotten into the stone somehow. Professors Dumbledore, Flitwick, and Sprout had taken over Lockhart’s classroom with glee until it had been coaxed to grow by the lake at an alarming rate.

“You know,” Dean said, tilting his head and watching as the matted rugs Harry had been draped in started turning into comforters with vaguely unsettling patterns that seemed to crawl off the fabric, “if you go for his hair, you could probably get us out of class for a month.”

“Or his teeth,” Ron mused.

“Honestly,” Hermione rolled her eyes. Ron probably would have been more offended if Hermione’s spiral notebook wasn’t currently filling in what Minisa had accidentally done now. The notebook was part of a set that she and Minisa shared, a present from Aegon. He had been very… bemused by the idea of using quills.

“I can’t really… control it,” Minisa said, kicking her desk.

“You should probably try,” Hermione said.

“Not yet, the Weasley Twins have started betting,” Lavender said.

“I hate you all,” Minisa said, thunking her head on her desk. This wasn’t supposed to happen! She’d practice being as rational as Rhaenys was. Then she’d be able to control her powers and not have to think about how the entire school apparently knew she was weirder than your average student.

~

The betting had actually begun after a visit to Hagrid’s had been interrupted by Malfoy and an explanation of the word “Mudblood”.

Hermione had grown a little worried about the warping of reality, but Malfoy just seemed a little… ferret-ier than normal, and clearly didn’t have the energy to say more foul things, so… she supposed she couldn’t worry too much.

Malfoy wasn’t dead. Or incurably insane.

The word Hermione was trying not to add to either of those sentences was “yet”.

~

“Who do you think it is?” Lavender asked Minisa one morning.

The topic was the Heir and the Chamber, because Professor Binns, as a very amused Elia Martell would later point out, did not seem to realize that the one foolproof way to get a group of teenagers interested in a topic was to ban it.

“I think Professor Dumbledore all but admitted a student couldn’t be doing it,” Minisa said, unbraiding her hair. Hermione was biting her lip as she was brushing her hair, Lavender noticed. “So I wonder if something or someone is hiding in the school?”

“A troll got in last Halloween,” Parvati pulled out her shoes. She was the earliest riser of the girls, and seemed the most cheerful in the mornings. “Is that why you said something?”

“It scares spiders,” Hermione mused. “We saw quite a lot fleeing the castle.”

“So it probably is a creature,” Lavender frowned as she checked her bag. She thought she’d remembered to put in extra quills. “So why haven’t the teachers caught it?”

“It’s a big castle,” Parvati mused, settling on her bed to wait for them. “Padma said the Ravenclaws are trying to find out if any other part of the castle might have been lost.”

They all thought about that- it wasn’t very comfortable, wondering if something that could Petrify them was hiding somewhere in the castle. Especially, for some of them, because Nearly Headless Nick had been attacked. He was a ghost, after all. There were things that could happen to ghosts, but usually they didn’t affect the living as well.

“But,” Lavender pointed out, finding her quills, “someone wrote those things.”

“So who did?” Minisa looked at them cautiously.

No one could answer that.

~

The idea of Malfoy being the heir was a possibility, Minisa guessed. She had just grown up on stories about how evil didn’t usually proclaim how awesome murder was. Thoughtless, stupid, or careless people were more like that. In her grandfather’s time, those who flouted the spirit of the law were referred to as “charcoal”. Until Grandfather Targaryen could be referred to as “a pincushion”, at least. But if Hermione thought they should spy on the Slytherins, maybe it was a good idea. They didn’t even know if Malfoy’s father went to Hogwarts when the Chamber was opened.

Actually, if Dobby belonged to the Malfoys, maybe? But he’d never said, so they didn’t know what was going on, except that Dobby’s idea of “safe” needed a lot of work.

Well, after they got  _Moste Potente Potions_ , there had been an agreement that Minisa shouldn’t take it. It might go… sideways.

Hermione had very carefully not mentioned her fears about tentacles.

Of course, right after that was the incident with the rogue bludger. Oliver Wood sought Minisa out after Charms class. There had been a lot of whispers about what had happened to Colin Creevey, too. But, as Ron and Dean had loudly pointed out, Harry had been in the Hospital Wing all night regrowing a bone.

“Min? Could you do us all a favor and make Professor Lockhart vanish?” he asked, eyes narrowed. A few of the other students looked at each other. “Or maybe just his bones?”

“Preferably when he keeps saying no,” Angelina added from behind him.

Hermione looked uncomfortable, a blush rising on her dark face.

“I can’t control it…” Minisa said again. Though, if she asked, Senya might be able to do something. She frowned. “Do you think Lockhart might be a puppet for whatever is really going on?”

“I don’t think so,” Hermione offered.

“What, like he’s causing it? Why?” Ron asked.

“To swoop in and save everyone,” Angelina tapped her foot, thinking. “Maybe? He’s stupid enough that he could think it was a good idea.”

Well, Hermione said later, looking at a bemused Harry and a slightly sheepish Minisa, at least it was a theory that didn’t involve Harry.

~

Hermione looked at Minisa sternly. “Min,  _no_.”

“You can’t actually stop her from going to the Duelling Club,” Parvati pointed out. It was true. Minisa had a gift for ending up in peculiar places. Partially because the timing of her arrivals made no sense, and partially because geography, locks, and other inconveniences seemed to melt away.

Hermione gave her friend a look that said that Snape knew Minisa had managed to cause Goyle’s cauldron to spring a bundle of leaks and turned the wet-start firework that Harry had thrown into a… thing that was alarmingly like a two mouthed octopus. He couldn’t prove it, but he knew. The eye-twitches were enough.

When they got down, there were a few groans as Lockhart stepped up on stage and began his patter. Snape was dragged in his wake like an especially malevolent shadow.

“Maybe we should have stayed in our dorm,” Seamus muttered.

Snape sending Lockhart flying made a few people wince, but Minisa was looking around the room and wondering where this would all go sideways.

When it came to pairing people up, Minisa winced as she saw Snape heading straight towards them.

He paired Ron up with Seamus, which would be brilliant except both their spells tended to go sideways easily. Hermione and Millicent… well, she was possibly the only girl taller than Minisa in their year, but she wasn’t usually actively mean. Harry and Malfoy…

Really? Either Malfoy had been taught a trick just to embarrass Harry, or Snape was delusional.

“Miss Parkinson will pair with Miss Targaryen,” Snape added. There was a nervous set to Pansy’s mouth that Min didn’t like, and she was mouthing something.

Minisa had the sinking and sullen feeling that Snape had indeed set them up for their distraction.

She glared at the back of his head as he walked away, feeling gleeful that he managed to trip over his robes and land flat on his face. The suddenly springy bit of floor seemed to turn back to normal as he picked himself up, and she wished it had been quicksand instead.

Whatever the problem was, it wasn’t going to show up right away. Pansy didn’t use the disarming spell, though- whatever it was seemed nasty when it hit Goyle instead and made him blister.

Pansy was staring at her, though, as Malfoy and Harry went up to the stage.

When everyone was staring at Harry arguing with a giant snake that apparently their teacher had thought it was a good idea to… gah, Minisa really understood the ideas the Ones Before had sometimes.

But while everyone was busy watching Harry, Pansy hit Minisa with something cold and sharp that made her let out a wild scream as she clutched her side.

The snake vanished and half the crowd went to their knees, Lockhart and Malfoy fled the stage and barely stopped to open the door, and a wild-eyed Harry watched her warily as she held her side and tried not to cry.

“Hey, Min,” one of the Weasley Twins said, managing to walk over to her. Her heart was racing so hard she thought it might break her ribs, and she couldn’t stop shaking. “Katie, help us get her to the Hospital Wing?”

Min shook her head. “I want my mum, I want my sister,” she said, feeling something sticky and warm in her hands. “Pansy did something, I can’t breathe…”

“Merlin, that was a  _second year_ ,” someone whispered. “What happened?”

“Look at all that blood,” someone else said.

“Did Potter do that?” someone asked, and Minisa was almost mad enough to see red.

“No, it was the Parkinson girl, that’s one of Potter’s friends who got hurt,” another said. Katie put an arm around her shoulders to help Minisa stand, which was good because Minisa was seeing spots and bars and stars right now.

Harry hopped off the stage, and walked over. “We can send a letter with Hedwig,” he offered. “C’mon, Madam Pomfrey will check you out.”

Snape looked ready to say something, but the tone of the room was less about being afraid of Harry and more worried about the woozy-looking girl who was bleeding from her side.

~

“What happened?” Hermione asked. Myrtle was peeking from her toilet, and they were about to try the Polyjuice Potion.

“Professor Dumbledore said it was a spell that went wonky,” Minisa said. Madam Pomfrey had cleaned up her side, which had a case of frostbite as well as the jagged bits of cut on it. She’d been in the Hospital Wing for a couple of nights, and she didn’t think her parents had been told. Neither of them had come in and started demolishing the castle, at any rate. As long as there wasn’t a scar she should be fine. “Pansy didn’t really know what she was doing, the spell was supposed to…” She frowned. “Something something cousin to the flame-freezing spell, used to deal with fire-based creatures.”

“Snape told her how to use it,” Ron said, scowling. He wasn’t the only one who thought it.

“Because I keep…” Minisa waved her hands. “Apparently it should have only acted like a diagnostic spell, if I wasn’t actively using my powers, but since they are just starting to come in…”

“She ended up nearly killing you,” Hermione looked venomous. “Honestly, sometimes I wonder what the wizarding world’s idea of acceptable behavior really is.”

Because dealing with yet another argument between Ron and Hermione made her side hurt, and because Harry was looking stressed already, she interrupted. “Maybe we could get my cousin Sansa to give manners lessons.”

Pansy had ended up with a month of detentions and a long essay on why testing spells on fellow students was a bad idea. She was pretty sure that once Jon found out, Snape might be worse off.

Hermione looked at the potion. “Well, time to try it.”

~

Ron looked at the man who was sitting on the old desk, watching them all curiously. “Little fish,” he said, frowning, “what in the worlds are you  _doing_?”

“Aegon!” Minisa shouted, hugging the man. He didn’t quite look like Minisa, if you ignored the weird. Minisa was sunshiney, with her untidy reddish blonde hair and fondness for wild colors. The man was tall, and his hair was wavy and silvery. There was something very… still about him, too. His eyes were dark and looked over them cautiously, even as he hugged Minisa, and his skin color was more like Harry’s than snow-pale Min.

Also, though Ron was actually smart enough not to say it, he was a lot… sharper than Minisa, who was round and bouncy.

“I take it your friend doesn’t usually look like a… cat,” Aegon said, biting his lip as Hermione pulled the Invisibility Cloak off of herself.

Hermione looked faintly miserable. “No.”

“May I asked what caused it?” he looked over them, then down at Minisa. “And I’m assuming that is why you called.”

“It is,” Minisa said, letting go. “There is something petrifying people running around, and I can’t tell Mum because she’ll probably have a stroke…”

“Yes, that sounds right,” Aegon said, looking at the ceiling in a way that made Ron kind of like him. He sounded a lot like Bill.

“And if Dad finds out…” Minisa tried to look innocent. “Well. And I could have asked Aunt Dany, but she likes to make scenes, and we thought we knew who was doing it. So Hermione got a recipe for this really disgusting but really brilliant potion that makes you look like someone else…”

“You didn’t try it?” Aegon asked, eyebrows going up.

“No, Hermione thought it was a bad idea. But it worked for Ron and Harry,” and here she gestured at them. Ron wished she hadn’t, because Aegon was now studying them with a slight tilt to his head and a blank expression. “And then it turns out Hermione accidentally grabbed cat hair to disguise herself instead of actual hair…”

“Deepest sympathies,” Aegon shuddered. “My sister keeps a cat. Vicious little hellbeast.”

“I like Mori,” Minisa protested. “And I thought she was getting another one?”

“…Please no,” Aegon said, shaking his head. “But I’m guessing that cat hair wasn’t something that worked within the parameters of the potion.” He walked over to Hermione, tilting her head up. “You are remarkably lucky- there are a number of ways it could have gone worse. But I think I can fix it, just…”

He spoke a word that made Ron fall down, it sounded so wrong, and he had to put a hand up to his ears to make sure they weren’t bleeding.

“Warning, Aegon,” Minisa parroted.

“Would have been nice,” Ron muttered, looking nervously at Harry, who was rubbing his scar and scowling at everyone.

Hermione was looking normal, though, and blushing terribly.

…Really, you think someone is clever.

“You are bringing them to Christmas, though, Minisa? I know Jon and Mum especially want to meet your friends properly,” Aegon said, dusting himself off. The lights in the classroom had started to even out, even if they did seem a little less bright.

“…If they want?” Minisa looked at them all.

“Sure,” Ron said. It would be nice to have a day or two without Percy breathing down his neck.

Hermione and Harry both nodded.

“Wonderful- I’ll do a door to the gate about eleven tomorrow morning for you, and Danelle will come and pick you up,” he said, before blinking in a way Ron found suddenly familiar. “Now, did this little adventure actually help?”

“No,” Ron said, kicking the floor. “Malfoy doesn’t know who is doing it.”

“People are trying to say it’s Harry, which is stupid,” Minisa sighed.

“At least you eliminated a suspect,” Aegon said, frowning. “Minisa, we’ll have to talk about this more. I don’t like the sound of these attacks.”

Minisa nodded, hugging herself. She looked a bit worried, now.

Her brother wouldn’t be able to pull her out of school, would he?

~

Harry looked around curiously. The house was much bigger than it probably should have been, taking up most of this point of the island.

“Rhaenys lives over at Stargazer, and Jon lives over in York, which isn’t even on the island- I think he threw a dart to decide, but Dad keeps trying to get him to come home,” Min said, bouncing in her seat. “Aegon and Rhaenys are visiting their mum’s family- their granddad is one of the people who sort of wandered in and never left, and he’s from Mexico, so they do the Catholic Mass for Christmas and Ron you should really try atole, Aegon started making it for Christmas and it is  _amazing_.”

Hermione frowned. “Wait, there are churches?” She then seemed to realize what she said.

Danelle snorted, pulling into park. “Yeah, there are. As much as Dad would love it, the family doesn’t get that type of worship. They aren’t actual gods out of myths.”

Her fiance, a pretty seeming brunette with clever golden eyes, sighed. “Since Robert Baratheon is a cousin of your father’s, would that make him Zeus in this argument?”

“….Yes, yes it does,” Danelle said, frowning. “Complete with furious wife. And yes, Hermione, there are churches. Gran Rhaella and Aunt Cat are both fairly devout, but from what Aegon says it is more a family holiday tradition from his granddad than anything else. We have people from around the world, so we have almost as many churches as the Sunken City.”

“But we get dinner and fancy breakfast in the morning, and Rhaenys grumbles about her awful luck with her birthday being Christmas Eve, and Dad plays music for us,” Minisa said, bouncing. “Also, sledding competitions.”

“It sounds great,” Harry said, as a trio of people rounded the gate. Danelle grumbled as she parked.

“Min!” shouted the oldest, a young woman with Minisa’s red-gold hair and a purple uni sweatshirt. “Why didn’t you come straight home instead of waiting?”

The other two, a boy and a girl with pale blonde hair and violet eyes, were a bit slower. “Hello,” the boy said. “I’m Alyx, that’s Alyssa, and the shouty one is Senya.”

“Mum is in the kitchen,” Alyssa added. “It’s nice to meet your friends.”

Senya rolled her eyes. “Mum told them they have to pretend to care about other people while we have guests. I think she’s thinking about trying to set up Rhae or Aegon and wants to make sure the Ghouls don’t scare them off.”

“We’re not that bad,” Alyx said. “Come on, though, we’ll show you your rooms.”

And Christmas was nice- Mrs. Targaryen was very happy to see all of them, and there was an eccentric Christmas dinner that included pizza, artichokes, and some yogurt like dessert that she had learned from one of Min’s half-siblings.

Mr. Targaryen looked over them all with mild interest, with Senya loudly proclaiming that she had nabbed his latest book until dinner was over so he actually had to talk to people. He asked questions about Hogwarts’ history they mostly left to Hermione, while Harry and Ron explained Quidditch to Senya. Margaery asked questions about wizarding society that Ron answered in between bites.

“Christmas Breakfast is even better,” Min said before they went to their rooms.

~

Christmas Breakfast was indeed as good as Minisa promised. Minisa then went to talk with her brother Aegon, while a small, dark woman took Harry aside.

“I need to speak to you,” she said, smiling gently. This must be Rhaenys, Harry realized, feeling faintly dizzy. Later, he wouldn’t quite be sure if she was pretty, but something about her caught his attention and made him feel content.

Harry followed her as she walked over to one of the multitude of rooms in this place.

If Harry had actually paid attention to the makeup of the island, he would have realized that it took up far too much room for it to fit anywhere near Britain without being very well known, and possibly bigger than, say, Spain.

If he had asked, he would have been told this was because the island didn’t quite exist in the regular world. It had drifted at bit over the centuries, picking up different names.

It had settled most recently in the last years of Aegon the Unlikely, possibly due to his interest in a new science fiction show called Doctor Who.

The house, he was dimly starting to realize, was something very like that. The room in question looked over the shoreline in a way he didn’t think it should be able to, but was otherwise mostly comforting until you looked up and saw the dragons curling around the edge of the ceiling.

Min’s sister waved to an overstuffed brown armchair. “Sit, sit. I have things to say.” She sat down opposite, smoothing her lacy green skirt. “Minisa has mentioned a bit about your difficulties this year.”

He shuffled a bit, uncomfortable.

Rhaenys smiled. “How much do you know about our family?”

Harry opened his mouth to answer before realizing that while there were most likely polite words for it, he didn’t know them.

“I suspected that was the case,” she said. “We are meant to act as caretakers, though that has not always actually happened.” She sighed. “With that being said, the family has also mellowed a great deal over the centuries, and has not always focused on what lies beyond Dragonstone. As it is technically not part of our jurisdiction, I will have to concede that point, though a few of us will meddle anyway.” Her smile was red-lipped, showed very sharp teeth, and was oddly comforting.

“Is Min in trouble for helping us?” Harry asked.

Rhaenys wiggled a hand. “Not really… our father doesn’t pay much attention, and if Lysa shouts, it will be more at the supposedly responsible adults.” She paused, drumming her hands on the arm of her chair. “Senya can help her hide the bodies, I think. But aside from that, there are different levels of power and specialization among the family. The Heir is the only mantle passed down entirely through choice, and there are limits on even that. Any title we have is through power and temperament. Senya and Jon both possess a mantle, though I do not think the Alyx or Alyssa will.”

“But you think Minisa will,” Harry guessed, earning another smile.

“Yes, I do. It’s early for her to show the power she has- younger than Senya was, though she isn’t the youngest by a long shot,” Rhaenys explained. She gave Harry’s scar a quick, assessing look that made no real sense to him. “Jon is the Prince in Winter, specializing in ice, while Aunt Dany is Slayer of Lies- please do not attempt to pass off a lie near her, it ends badly. Except for her career as a reporter, of course. I don’t know exactly what Min will be, just yet.” She shrugged. “Now, please tell me about what exactly is going on at your school. Minisa likes to filter her problems, and I can’t help if I don’t know what really happened.”

Harry spoke to Rhaenys for a long while, explaining about the Chamber and Dobby and how the rumors were swirling. He mentioned Lockhart and Minisa’s habit of setting it awry.

She in turn asked a few questions that set Harry to thinking, about who benefited, wondering about giant snakes, and so on.

“Well,” she said, “I think Lysa will notice we’ve gone soon.” She stood up. “It has been nice to meet you.”

“You too,” Harry said, before something she said earlier hit him. “What mantle do you have?”

She gave him another approving look. “The proper version is Voice of the Voiceless. It serves a twofold purpose- the first is that I tend to the dead. In the wider world, that means I work in forensic anthropology, dealing with human remains. Here… something slightly different.”

“And the second?” Harry asked, suspecting it was important.

“The family needs a conscience,” she said after a moment. “Sometimes that means reminding them that there is a price for everything, and sometimes that means solving problems before they decide to go postal.” She sighed, seeming a lot more normal. “I swear, I think they  _like_  going postal, I really do.”

~

The diary, still faintly damp and smelling of grey water, looked perfectly innocent. Perhaps a trick bought by a doting parent.

The diary was not an innocent thing. Ron looked suspicious of it before Minisa saw it and reared back like an angry cat.

“What is that?” she asked. “It’s alive, I think.”

“Someone chucked it at Myrtle,” Ron said. “We don’t know anything else, ‘cept the person who owned it was a student who got an award.”

“T.M. Riddle, who was a student fifty years ago,” Harry said. He was still holding the book, which made her feel very uneasy.

“Fifty years ago?” Hermione looked up at him, curls flying. “The Chamber was opened fifty years ago.” She tried a couple of tricks to get it to reveal any secrets, but nothing happened.

Following Ron to the trophy room did not reveal everything useful, though Minisa didn’t trust someone with all those awards.

~

Valentine’s Day was a particular type of hell that was perfected by teenagers. And made even worse by the existence of Lockhart. A few of the little messenger creatures had found themselves turning their messages back to their senders, and poor Ginny looked like she wanted the floor to swallow her.

Malfoy wasn’t able to walk in a straight line, though, acting like he was avoiding things no one else could see.

And the peculiar diary Harry had found had somehow absorbed all of the ink that had been spilled on it. It felt, Min told Ron, like they might have accidentally fed it.

Ron told her to stop creeping them out.

Minisa frowned that night as she tried to sleep. She knew how some of the other students saw her- too big, too gaudy, too  _much_. But that was like her mother, and her father loved her mother. Her Aunt Cat and Uncle Edmure loved her mother. It was like Dani, and her mother’s oldest daughter was also loved. So clearly, a voice that sounded very like cousin Arya thought, they were being stupid.

Of course, she was also like her father. And if they didn’t like the part of her that were human, then what would they think of the parts that were… not?

If they saw her when the dead winds blew, or heard Dad play, or saw Rhaenys in her garden… she kind of thought most of them would pass out gibbering. Whatever they were whispering about Harry, it would probably be a million times worse if they learned about her.

She pulled the blanket over her head.

In the morning, Harry would tell them that he’d gotten to walk in Riddle’s memories, and she resolved to write to Rhaenys. If this was a necromancer…

Dead things could lie, and she didn’t think Hagrid would kill someone. And the spiders just didn’t fit.

~

The Gryffindors had decided to sit down and discuss their class options.

Discussion, in this case, turning into talking into each other and forming groups that tried to ignore what each other said.

Minisa looked gloomily at her list. Divination would be a very bad idea, she suspected, given the history of Targaryens and prophecy.

Also, Jon would give her sad disappointed puppy looks, and she was dealing with enough already.

Care of Magical Creatures would be interesting, she decided. And she might just do what Dean did and play “pin the wand on the list”, though Hermione gave her dirty looks when she suggested it.

She ended up going for Ancient Runes, because she wasn’t horrible with languages and she could probably make pretty patterns out of them.

~

Ron and Minisa were sitting in the stands and discussing who might have stolen the diary from Harry when McGonagall strode to the pitch.

“Reckon we should figure out what is happening?” Ron asked.

Minisa felt slightly dizzy- Aegon had pointed out that the teachers had been working very hard to convince the students that everything was fine. Why would McGonagall ruin that now?

“Yes,” she said, biting her lip so she could taste copper. “I think so.”

The professor was being kind and forgetting to look at Minisa as if she was faintly peculiar, making it seem all the worse. Ron grabbed her wrist and she grabbed Harry’s, and she felt a gaping absence where a fourth, nailbitten hand should be.

_Hermione is in the library, she’s safe, we need to give Harry an alibi because wizards are dumb and humans lash out when they are afraid, Hermione is in the library…_

She  _wailed_  when she saw Hermione. The cry set a few people lurching sideways and pulled at what is occasionally called a lizard brain, the part of a mind that remembers very well when humans were far from the most dangerous game. The windows turned to spun sugar and no one could quite look at her.

She sat in the corner of the common room as Lee Jordan pointed out that the Slytherins had all been safe, and wasn’t that terribly convenient? Ron was saying something about how Percy must be so shaken about Penelope Clearwater because he couldn’t believe the creature would attack a prefect.

She raised her head when Harry mentioned going to talk to Hagrid, and using the Cloak.

“I’m going too,” she said, and Harry almost thought he heard an overflowing creek somewhere.

~

She could tell things were going wrong when Hagrid greeted them with a crossbow. Who was he expecting? He was jittery, nervous, and a terrible liar.

When the knock came, a sudden, horrified suspicion crossed her mind.

They hid under the Cloak, feeling a bit squashed in the leg department, watching as Dumbledore and the Minister of Magic came into the room. (Cornelius Fudge? And she thought her family had peculiar names…)

She didn’t know what Azkaban was, or why it terrified Hagrid, but when Malfoy came in so soon after Fudge mentioned the school governors, she wondered if that was really just by chance. She was a Targaryen, paranoia was an old and comfortable friend.

Ron flinched when the spiders were mentioned, and he looked more and more horrified as they spoke. Harry looked almost as puzzled as she felt, like none of this was real.

“We’re in trouble now,” Ron said, as they were left alone in the cabin. “No Dumbledore, there will be an attack a day.” He looked at them with wide eyes. “Are they  _trying_  to get people killed?”

“Probably,” Minisa said gloomily.

Harry looked at her with his eyes wide. “You really think so?” he frowned. “We know Malfoy…”

“Didn’t know what happened,” Minisa said, straightening from her slumped position. “But maybe he knew something was going to happen.”

“Makes sense,” Harry said, scratching his head. “His dad drops a hint or two…”

“Like ‘I’ll be rid of Dumbledore soon’?” Ron asked. “Or ‘oh, hey, you won’t have to worry about Muggleborns outdoing you in lessons anymore, Draco’?”

“…Both?” Minisa shrugged. “But if Hermione was here, I’m pretty sure she’d agree. Draco was acting suspiciously.”

“He was,” Ron agreed. “But how do we prove it?”

“We follow the spiders,” Harry said.

There was what should have been a dramatic pause, before Ron said, “Do we really have to?”

~

The next few days devolved into a blur of being shuffled to classes, keeping Ron from beating Draco to a twitching mass, and dealing with people who had apparently, out of the goodness of their hearts, decided that since Hermione was in the Hospital Wing, Harry couldn’t be the Heir.

They might have decided that Minisa was harmless, except the Slytherin table cracked in two one day, had all their hats turn carnivorous, and a very annoyed Professor Snape discovered that the hallway he was escorting his students down suddenly decided to ignore the proper rules of geography.

Minisa, Harry noticed, had dark circles under her eyes and looked like she wasn’t eating. As glad as he was that Lockhart’s teeth had started glowing bright orange, he was worried for his friend. Rhaenys had mentioned during their discussion over Christmas that constantly using power was not good for young Targaryens, and could cause emotional issues.

Which is one of the reasons that Harry had decided they needed to sneak away soon. If Min did send for her family to sort the problem out, he didn’t think Rhaenys would be able to talk all of them down from horrible vengeance, and he’d seen  _all_  of Alyx’s teeth.

He didn’t want to see them again.

Bringing her into the Forest was probably a bad idea- there had to have been a reason that McGonagall had refused to send her in last year. But the car didn’t attack her, and Harry had a feeling she was probably one of the scarier things in the Forest.

Well, maybe not. There was also the giant talking spider to deal with.

Which… they had managed to eliminate another suspect- Aragog had not been the creature that attacked students fifty years ago. (And, he had realized, the Petrified students didn’t have giant spider bites, so there was no real reason to think it was a spider.) But he also refused to tell them what the real creature was.

Also, Aragog had decided that his children could eat them.

But, when they told Minisa that the girl who died was probably Moaning Myrtle, she said something Harry was pretty sure was a curse word and “why didn’t we think of that earlier!” in a sharp, guttural language.

~

Ron looked between his friends- Harry’s story about visiting Hermione as an excuse for why they snuck away worked pretty well. Plus, Lockhart had taken to avoiding them when he could, so it wasn’t hard to believe that they weren’t being that well watched. Minisa adding that bit about muggle coma patients being read to was also brilliant.

But seeing Hermione like that was just plain wrong. It was worse than Min when she went cranky.

Which is why he almost didn’t notice it when Harry pulled out a page that looked like it had been torn from a book. He’d have thought they would have checked better, but he guessed Hermione holding a note wouldn’t be weird.

“Pipes?” Min said, reading over Harry’s shoulder. “A basilisk?”

Things went quickly from there. With the answer Hermione’d given them, every awful thing that wasn’t a mad house elf made sense. They needed to tell McGonagall…

Really, he thought as they hid in the closet of the staff room, wondering who might have been attacked now, after last year maybe they should have just told Madam Pomfrey.

He listened as they started explaining to each other what had happened, when McGonagall told Hooch that Ginny was missing.

He’d almost like it, the way all the others were finally telling Lockhart to put his money where his mouth was, except they were doing it about Ginny.

And then Harry wouldn’t look him in the eyes, when they got back to the Common Room and Ron asked if Ginny was probably still alive.

He wasn’t thinking, because his sister was  _missing_ , not Petrified, and they’d been so close to waking everyone up.

So he’d suggesting telling Lockhart about the basilisk. Even if he was a prat, he’d still fought more things than anyone else in the castle.

When his brain decided to work, later, Ron wanted to kick himself.

~

“Let me get this straight,” Aegon said, staring at her incredulously. “Somehow, no one noticed that some pompous blowhard falsified  _his entire career_?” He paused. “Actually, that seems fairly plausible.”

“Yup,” Minisa said. She had made herself a sundae, and had generously offered to split it with her big brother.

She’d wondered how on earth Lockhart had actually managed to do half the stuff in his books. She wasn’t the only one, either. Fred and George had muttered about it.

“Duck is probably laughing and doesn’t know why,” Aegon muttered, scooping up a large chunk of the hot fudge. “And when you went to tell him what the creature was, he tried to wipe your memories of his confession.”

“Yup,” Minisa said, before biting into a cherry. It was one from Stargazer, tart and juicy, not the neon syrupy kind.

The neon syrupy kind might have been better, given Aegon’s mood.

“And he was disarmed by a twelve year old,” he continued. “Whereupon, instead of getting another adult, you decided to frog march him to where you thought the Chamber was.”

They had been very, very angry when they decided to do that. Not even Myrtle telling them about her death had calmed them.  _How dare he_. Not even sliding down into the dark had calmed them down.

“It was where the Chamber was,” Min pointed out. “We knew we were right when we saw the giant snakeskin.”

Seeing it and wondering if they had run into the monster had made her understand how her mum felt all the time.

“And then the  _responsible adult_ ,” and Aegon sounded more venomous than the basilisk at that, “tried to steal your friend’s wand and remove your memories again, leaving a child to rot.”

Minisa shook her head, trying to dislodge bits of dust and rubble that weren’t there anymore. She then took a large spoonful of strawberry ice cream.

“Only someone decided that it was a good idea to have a twelve year old carrying around a malfunctioning deadly weapon for a school year,” Aegon said, and the whites were starting to go from his eyes. “So he scrambled his brains completely instead.”

“Pretty much?” Minisa tried to smile. “Ginny’s alive, though, and Harry killed the diary and the Snake.” Maybe she shouldn’t mention to Aegon seeing Harry covered in dirt and blood and the sickly sharp scent of the poison dripping from the creature’s fangs. It had scared her terribly.

“The diary,” Aegon frowned. “Rhaenys agreed to see what she could find- I’m worried about a teenager who was able to create something like that.”

“Well,” Minisa said, very seriously. “He did grow up to be a supervillain.”

Aegon gave her a wry look. “Don’t try to butter me up with silly jokes. Little fish, you could have  _died_.”

“I didn’t!” Minisa pointed out. “And I was right! Mr. Malfoy was the person responsible!”

“But can you prove it,” Aegon said, because he was a lawyer and irritating like that. “That is what matters.”

She sighed. She’d been very annoyed with most wizards throughout this, even Mr. Weasley, who had reacted to a sobbing Ginny and being told about the evil diary that probably warped minds by lecturing her about how she should have known better. She’d quietly told Percy about Aegon’s Aunt Ellaria, who helped traumatized people and knew about weird things. He’d looked ready to protest before Minisa had mentioned that there were books on how to spot this sort of thing. Percy’s pride was then replaced by his desire to not mess up the same way twice.

“There were eleven people who said he’d blackmailed them into getting rid of Dumbledore, Malfoy hates Mr. Weasley, and Ginny said she trusted the book because it was in her cauldron. She used it in the bookstore to carry her things, and Mr. Malfoy and Mr. Weasley got in a fight- Dani saw it. You saw it.”

“Ah,” Aegon said, eyes widening. He sat back on the wooden kitchen chair, nearly balancing it on two legs. “That’s when he did it?”

Minisa nodded. “And Dobby was his house elf. Harry tricked Mr. Malfoy into freeing him.”

“Still not proof,” Aegon said, after a long moment. “But… I think I can speak to the great houses about this. Your Aunt Cat and Uncle Edmure will probably agree that we should try something. Arianne will certainly agree, and Tywin can be worked with… Robert will be Robert, but the Tyrells get family, and I can’t see Will agreeing to allow children to be hurt. Him or his brothers. And I can promise Robert that if things go as badly as I fear, he will get a war.” He paused. “Asha will probably grumble, of course, and I can never quite tell where the Valefolk will go.”

Minisa looked at her brother, who seemed to be made out of the swords that made up the chair in the room she was never supposed to enter.

“Blue?” she asked. Some ice cream dripped off her spoon.

“I wonder if a pattern is forming, or if there is just a really worrying amount of rot,” he said, pinching his nose. “I’d like it if your friends came to visit- and let’s not tell Dad yet.”

She’d need to tell Mum outside, then, because Mum would be worse about not knowing and she’d still shout when Minisa told her. That level of upset in the house wasn’t something even Dad could miss.

She looked at her brother and nodded. “I’ll call Harry and Hermione tomorrow, though I need to write Ron somehow…”

“We’ll work on it,” Aegon agreed, before snatching the last of the cherries. “We won’t leave you to deal with this alone.”


	4. an ounce of rain

“It was a dead thing,” Lysa said, thoughtfully. Molly watched as the other woman frowned. “Min told our oldest boy- Aegon, the one with his father’s hair- about the diary. A dead thing and a basilisk.”

Molly had wanted to have a great deal of words with Professor Dumbledore about that- how did no one think of it? Ron had told her about Harry hearing the creature, the roosters that had been killed… really, someone who wasn’t a thirteen year old girl should have been able to put it together.

Of course, Molly had allowed herself to believe that Ron and the twins were merely exaggerating about how Harry was being treated by those awful people. Even if they were merely trying to get out of trouble, the boy had looked pinched and had been so nervous…

He looked better, playing along the shore with the others. Lysa’s oldest- her stepson, if she got Minisa’s hurried explanation right- was watching them over his book.  Lysa’s easy acceptance of her stepchildren was endearing, as was her genuine understanding about Molly’s upset. Ginny had spent the morning with Dr. Sand, who had also been accepting of what happened and mentioned that she had daughters of her own, with the youngest about Percy’s age. She seemed calmer, afterwards, which made Molly feel a little more at ease.

“But how could he have put his own son at risk?” That was the bit that Molly could not bring herself to understand. Everything else made her think that the boy was spoiled and perhaps a little cruel with it. But turning that giant snake loose… Yes, there hadn’t been any Slytherin children attacked. But there hadn’t been any deaths, and she doubted that Malfoy had actually cared about that.

Lysa shrugged. “My children were debating it all last week. I think that he might not have realized- it was fifty years ago, and I wonder how many of the people you went to school with would have remembered the story.”

“And,” Molly said, following her thought processes, “he convinced himself that his boy wasn’t at risk at all, but would be…”

“More important because of it?” Lysa wrinkled her nose. “Some of those old family drama here is similar, but after Senya was born my husband did what he could to stamp it out. My late father in law would have approved,” she added, thoughtfully. “He wasn’t fond of Rhaenys, much, when he first saw her. Said she took too much after her mother- I suppose Elia had the last laugh, though.”

Molly wasn’t quite sure what to make of this, but a sudden shout made her look up. One of Lysa’s girls was scowling at George and chasing him into the water.

“Alyssa, be nice,” Lysa called, shaking her head. “Your twins seem so much more sociable than mine.”

“They make up for it in mischief,” Molly said, trying to see what had happened. There was something purple on the sand.

“Minnie mentioned that you won a trip to Egypt?” Lysa said, after it had all calmed down.

“Well, Arthur won a contest at work, and we never really get to bring all the children on vacation,” Molly said. “And we haven’t been able to see Bill for too long. So it seemed like a good idea.”

Lysa nodded, sipping her drink. “It does. I hope you enjoy it.”

Lysa, it must be noted, was not one bit psychic, and therefore had no idea what the unintended consequences of the Weasley’s vacation would be.


	5. A Crack in the Wall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, sorry for the slight delay, but I am on vacation... and also this chapter is more than 11,000 words.
> 
> That being said, I think I might switch to a weekly update schedule, just because they are going to keep getting longer. So we'd have this long chapter, a short next week, and a long chapter the week after, repeat.

Mum and Aunt Cat decided to take her to Diagon Alley this year. Mum because Harry had written Minisa about running away and That Idiot Fudge, as Mum had taken to calling him, making Harry promise to stay in Diagon.

 

“And why couldn’t he stay _here_?” Mum shouted. “It’s perfectly safe here!”

 

Rhaenys had smiled and nodded and very much decided against mentioning Granddad Barbeque. Or Cersei. Or the deeply unsettling Boltons. She’d then suggested that Mum offer to let the children visit for Christmas again, and suggest a scheduled time for Harry to visit next summer. Preferably an early time, one that could be extended for vague reasons or, more likely, becuase “I’m a Targaryen, fuck you.”

 

“She’ll have it laid out in November, which should give everyone enough time to be guilted into submission,” Rhaenys told Min later. “Aunt Cat should keep Mum steady.” She paused, and added, slightly mournfully and sounding a lot like her father, “Rickon isn’t going, I hope.”

 

Rickon and Senya got along wonderfully. Rickon also had a voice that could be heard from the other end of the estate, and a worrying lack of impulse control. Senya wasn’t quite Evil Queen enough to live up to her name, but she’d once punched an awful boy hard enough to crack his jaw.

 

Aunt Cat was also _really_ amused by Diagon Alley. “Very bright,” she said, looking at one of the shop fronts, which was orange and blue polka dots. Pastel orange and navy blue, too. “Aside from cases like yours, you said wizarding magic runs in families?”

 

Minisa nodded. Winterfell was all greys and whites and soft blues. Most of the color there was from sports jerseys and mainlander things.

 

“Like color blindness, then,” Aunt Cat murmured, and Lysa shook her head. “What? I’m right.”

 

Minisa spotted Harry waiting for them outside of the Quidditch store. He was staring at the enormous poster for a fancy broom.

 

Was this a bad time to tell him that Senya had figured out how to ride the winds a couple of weeks ago? Probably.

 

“I should have realized,” Aunt Cat said, trying not to laugh. “A teenage boy and sports equipment.”

 

“Bran…” Minisa paused in her protest. Bran did climbing and cyvasse, and had an archeology degree. She supposed the climbing equipment was everywhere growing up.

 

Well, there was Alyx, but Alyx really didn’t care for things like other people, much less needing to interact with them.

 

She shook her head and went to go find her friend.

 

Harry seemed a little surprised when she walked up to him, jumping up and staring. “Min! Good to see you.”

 

Min gave him a hug, and said as quietly as she could, “Next time just come to Dragonstone, please? Mum and Mrs. Weasley were both _really_ worried.”

 

“I don’t think the Knight Bus would have taken me,” Harry pointed out. “And I don’t think a next time would be a good idea.”

 

“I’ll give you Jon’s address,” Min said. “The bus can take you to York, I bet. Or wherever Dany is staying.”

 

Harry shrugged. “We should probably get our textbooks,” he said, looking longingly at the Firebolt.

 

“Good idea,” Min said, bouncing on her toes. “I really don’t want to help Hermione carry all her books, do you?”

 

Harry blinked in dazed horror at the thought. “But getting on the train…”

 

“We’ll get Percy to charm it when we get to the station,” she decided. “She’s on her own until then.” She blinked at him- he’d hit a growth spurt and while he was still shorter, it wasn’t nearly as much- and added, “Also, what did your aunt do?”

 

Harry looked at her with surprise. “Most people would ask why I blew up my aunt,” he pointed out.

 

“You don’t lash out unless someone is being really horrible,” Minisa pointed out. “Otherwise you would have had Fred and George and Lee help you get terrible, terrible vengeance on everyone.”

 

They looked at the cage in the window of Flourish and Blotts, then at the very stressed looking employee.

 

Aunt Cat raised her eyebrows. “Do you know, I suspect Rickon would be thrilled by this? So would Arya, most likely.”

 

If Lysa was not distracted, she might have pointed out to her sister that all of her children had direwolves the size of a pony, so she really didn’t have room for that sarcasm there.

 

The shop assistant looked at them and Minisa wondered if she was actually witnessing him giving up on life.

 

“Two copies?” he said.

 

“Just one,” Harry said. “I already got one.” He looked at Min and added, “Hagrid.”

 

“Oh, I wonder if he spoke with the Care of Magical Creatures teacher,” Min wondered. They gathered the rest of their textbooks- and she needed to ask him about why he was so upset by the cover of the death omens book.

 

“Have you heard from Ron and Hermione?” asked Harry. “I know Ron and his family went to Egypt.”

 

“I called Hermione, she was talking to her parents about scheduling, but they had to book around their vacation,” Min shrugged. She was also fairly sure that Mr. and Mrs. Granger didn’t know about the basilisk, so not running the risk of someone telling them was probably a good thing. “She’ll be here in a few days, but Rhae was called to a case, Danelle is wedding planning, Aegon is in court, Dany has a deadline, _and_ Jon is busy at work right now, so…” She shrugged. “Mum wanted to check on you, too. She and Mrs. Weasley made friends. And Aunt Cat had today free, so I’m here!” In the interests of fairness, she added, “I am going to give Hermione a call tonight so she isn’t worried.”

 

“Seems fair,” he said, before pausing. “Do you know how many classes Hermione is taking?”

 

“Too many,” said Minisa, who was firmly of the opinion that signing oneself up for that much homework was just insane. Also, Uncle Viserys’ sharp little questions when she mentioned Muggle Studies as a class option had made her uneasy. “So, why do you have to stay here?”

 

“Fudge doesn’t want me to get lost again,” Harry said, scowling.

 

“Mum and Rhaenys want you home for Christmas, and probably as much of next summer as they can,” Minisa said. “I think Rhae might have adopted you as another little brother, just to let you know.”

 

Harry grinned at that, which just went to show that he didn’t know about Rhae’s safety lectures. Or long, impromptu lessons on things she considered important. Or how bossy she could get. Uncle Viserys liked to say she should just get married and fuss over her own children.

 

~

 

“Something is going on,” Dany said, frowning. Rhaegar did not seem to hear her, possibly because he spent so little time outside Dragonstone normally that he didn’t recognize the cars as weird.

 

Seriously, it looked like they were trying to foil an assassination attempt on a shoestring budget. There were two identical dark green sedans with tinted windows, which could not hold the people who were spilling out, and the plates didn’t quite work.

 

It was like a sensible sort of gangster transport, she mused. Though the emerald velvet suits were a bit much, one of them moved like he was used to a fight. They got the kids’ trunks on the trolleys and loaded.

 

Harry, being a sweet kid, waved to them, getting the attention of the official men. Which is when Min waved back- Dany, with her singed-short hair and sunglasses to hide a nasty black eye, hardly looked respectable. Rhaegar’s look-over had reminded her of that.

 

At least he hadn’t asked what Mother would have thought.

 

“How was Egypt?” Min asked, bouncing a bit.

 

“Wicked,” one of the twins said, grinning. “Ask Percy about the pyramid.”

 

Mrs. Weasley gave her son an irritated look at that. Mr. Weasley was standing slightly behind Harry, looking at the crowds warily.

 

Yeah, something was going on. She gave Min a look. “You’ll remember to write to us, little fish?”

 

“Of course, Aunt Dany,” Min rolled her eyes, but she had noticed something was wrong. “Mum will send me twelve letters a day until I do.”

 

“Lysa worries,” Rhaegar sighed, sounding as if it was the most tragic thing ever. Dany would have liked to remind him which of the spouses could actually balance a checkbook. Hint- it wasn’t Rhaegar.

 

She wondered if Mrs.Weasley might tell Lysa something, if pressed. She’d need to deal with it tomorrow, though. Lysa had taken one of her Xanax this morning, as much from shit Alyx and Alyssa did as the stress of the kids going to Hogwarts.

 

~

 

Hermione looked at the shabby-seeming man in the corner of the compartment, sleeping tucked up as if to take up as little space as possible. His suitcase had Professor RJ Lupin written on it, and he was sleeping soundly enough that even Ron and Minisa babbling at each other didn’t wake him up.

 

But now they’d turned to Harry, who was explaining what he had overheard, how Sirius Black had escaped to go after him. Minisa was biting her lip, and Hermione looked a bit nervously around for things that would go sideways, in between trying to cover her face. Didn’t enough bad things happen already? Why did someone else have to decide to start hurting people?

 

Aegon, if he had been there, would have said it was because an unfortunate amount of beings liked just making excuses to not be decent and instead be sacks of shit, but he was not there.

 

Harry was mostly right though- he didn’t go out and look for trouble, he just… followed it. Without thinking. It was deeply irritating.

 

They started talking about Hogsmeade, and Minisa absently wondered if the name of the town was related to the school, which Hermione now wanted to find out. The younger girl had then retreated into reading a muggle book with black paint over the cover.

 

Harry tried to see what she was reading and received an elbow to the ribs for his troubles.

 

“I borrowed it from Mum,” she said, frowning. “I think I like the ones I steal from Sansa or Rhae better. The hero is a jerk.”

 

Hermione reflected on what she had seen of Rhaegar Targaryen and wondered if Mrs. Targaryen had a type.

 

Harry then admitted that his aunt and uncle hadn’t signed his Hogsmeade form.

 

“Well, Aegon just signed Dad’s name,” Minisa said, shrugging. “I wonder if we can get Jon or Uncle Viserys to sign yours with your uncle’s name? They’d do it. Or my cousin Robb!”

 

“Unless we have to turn them in tonight,” Ron said gloomily.

 

“I doubt it,” Hermione said, wondering. “But should Harry really trick his way out of the castle? I mean, with Black on the loose?”

 

“...I’ll ask Robb. He’ll be sober enough to actually write the right name, but he won’t ask questions like that,” Minisa said, glaring at Hermione.

 

Hermione decided to busy herself with the ties to Crookshank’s basket, not wanting to let Minisa’s annoyance get to her. Yes, Harry should have fun, but he also shouldn’t be at risk! Better he be mad at her and alive than… well.

 

Her cat leapt out of the basket, making Ron shout and Wormtail writhe within Ron’s robes. But Crookshanks settled in her lap, and she petted him as they kept on.

 

Minisa looked up from her book a moment before Malfoy walked in. Malfoy decided to ignore her, which showed what Hermione considered a surprising amount of self preservation. He did, however, mention Ron’s family winning the contest and asked if Mrs. Weasley had died of shock.

 

“Did your mum box your dad’s ears for siccing a giant snake where you lived or losing a house elf?” Minisa asked, turning back to her book. Draco glared at her, while Harry tried to hide a grin.

“What happened to the cow who took you home… mooooo,” Draco clapped his hands over his mouth, then noticed Professor Lupin. “Whooo is that?”

 

“New teacher,” Harry said, and Malfoy turned the color of curdled milk before backing out.

 

“How long is that going to last?” Hermione asked.

 

Minisa raised her eyebrows, big blue eyes wide. “I have no idea what you are talking about, Hermione.”

 

“He shouldn’t have insulted Mrs. Weasley or Mrs. Targaryen,” Harry pointed out, looking out into the storm. Which was awful- it looked like some of the rain might be freezing to the window, turning the sky wavy and blurred when lightning flashed.  And the green-tinged sky reminded her of something.

 

“We must be almost there,” Ron said, looking about.

 

The train slowed, and Minisa tucked her book in her sequined bag. “Something’s wrong,” she said, hand around her wand. She folded her legs up so her knees met her chin, staring at the door.

 

Then the train jolted to a stop, and the lights went out in protest. Everyone but Minisa and Professor Lupin got up, and Hermione gasped as someone stepped on her foot.

 

“Ron!” she yelped. “That was my foot!”

 

They tried to disentangle, only for the door to open and for someone to trip over Harry.

 

“Sorry, sorry,” Neville said.

 

Hermione had quite enough of this and was going to ask the driver what had happened when Ginny tumbled into her.

 

All of the ruckus _finally_ woke Professor Lupin up, and he managed to light a fire spell.

 

Which is when the Dementor entered the compartment. She felt almost like she was being Petrified again, stiffness creeping up her spine and needing to lean a bit on Neville to stay upright. Harry fainted, falling over like someone had cut his knees from under him, and Ginny was hiding behind a grim-faced Ron, looking not much better, and Minisa…

 

Minisa leapt up and said a word that Hermione thought sounded like “dra-care-ease”, but she couldn’t be sure, not with the peculiar way Minisa moved, the firelight catching her hair and making Hermione think of bloody gold, the way her eyes couldn’t be _glowing_ …

 

The thing left, though, hissing.and Hermione fancied she could smell smoke.

 

“What was that?” Ron asked.

 

“That,” Professor Lupin said, “was a Dementor of Azkaban.”

 

~

 

Draco was being an arrogant little brat, trying to mock Harry about the Dementors. Thankfully, no one mentioned that Minisa had… sort of lost her temper… when Harry fainted. Her powers had evened out a lot over the summer, with Aegon and Jon both working with her. It wasn't like she could blame it on that, now.

 

Sort of lost her temper worked. It didn’t say that she’d provoked a creepy underfed Halloween decoration and revealed that she was an Old One. A baby Old One, and therefore vulnerable. And apparently someone thought that letting a whole pack of them near a school was a brilliant idea.

 

Also, that Professor Lupin was now added to the list of Professors who thought her bonkers.

 

Which is why she was deeply happy to go to Care of Magical Creatures. Hagrid liked her. He thought she was a sweet child. He didn’t think she was a monster.

 

She was perhaps sulking a bit. But apparently she’d scared Ginny a little bit with that trick, and the other girl wouldn’t speak to her without her voice breaking. Hermione was more used to her, but had clearly been a little unsettled.

 

Minisa stood back a little bit from the Hippogriffs, letting Lavender take the lead. “Let him sniff you,” Lavender suggested. “It always works in the books.”

 

“Let him decide the pace,” Parvati agreed. The two girls had partnered with her, possibly because they’d seen that things were a bit tense between her and Hermione. Which would be fixed soon. Friends fought- look at Tyrion and Rhae? Or even married couples- Uncle Edmure and Aunt Asha fought a lot, and they even seemed to enjoy it.

 

Minisa bowed, as formally as she would at Dad when... things happened in Dragonstone. She held out her hand in a loose fist like she would at a cat, and watched Moonfeathers butt it with her head.

 

Parvati let out a squeal.

 

Then there was a yelp, and of course Malfoy had been an idiot. Lavender pointed out that no one else had trouble, but if he was going to just ignore all the rules, well…

 

“He’s doing it to be spiteful,” Hermione said, mouth pursed. “Min, could you do something _horrible_ to him?”

 

Min had been asking Uncle Viserys all summer for help with tricks. She grinned, knowing it showed a few too many teeth.

 

“Almost feel bad for him,” Dean Thomas said, turning to his dinner. “Almost.”

 

~

 

Ron was glaring at the roots he was trying to fix. Stupid Malfoy, Min should turn him into twitching jelly. ‘Cept then she’d get in trouble.

 

And Malfoy was playing at something. “You don’t know?” Acting like he knew a big secret about Sirius Black and why he escaped, he was clearly baiting them. And he had his arm in that stupid sling, which was starting to ooze, though he didn't seem to notice.

 

He heard Minisa mutter something like, “You _would_ know stories, given your father,” before Dean shushed her. “What? He brags about it, the little drama queen.”

 

Snape didn’t seem to hear her, or perhaps he was opting for self-preservation. She was not in the mood, especially when he announced that Neville would have to test his Shrinking Solution on his toad. And, when Trevor didn’t die, Snape took five points off Hermione for helping him.

 

Ron was complaining about it, while Minisa pulled out a pen and wrote down a short version of what had happened. “Dean, do you mind signing this?” she asked, before looking up. “What’s wrong?”

 

“Did you see where Hermione went?” Ron asked, as Dean took the notebook from her.

 

“Can we give this to McGonagall for Christmas?” Dean asked. “Hermione’s at the bottom of the steps.”

 

“That works,” Minisa said. She had two more tucked neatly in her trunk, and some of the older students had agreed to do it, too. Hermione’s bag looked like it was heavy enough to leave bruises as it swung into her.

 

“How did you do that?” Ron asked, right before her bag split at the seams. Hermione looked ready to cry, looking at all the fallen books.

 

“Here,” Minisa said, grabbing two of them. “I have room in my bag.”

 

“Thank you,” Hermione said. “I should have been more careful…”

 

“Don’t we only have Defense this afternoon?” Ron asked, scratching his head.

 

“Homework, maybe?” Harry suggested, quietly. But he looked as baffled as Ron.

 

~

 

Harry was sulking again. Minisa was tempted to blame the dementors, but Dad liked to say teenagers were moody. (That was about the point when Aegon’s eyebrows met his hairline and Uncle Edmure tried not to choke on his drink.)

 

“Are you really upset that you didn’t get to face the Bogart?” she asked.

 

“Boggart,” Hermione corrected, not looking up from her book.

 

“I like Bogart better than boggarts,” said Minisa, who had fond memories of sitting on the couch with her parents and watching black and white movies. She waved it off. “So I won’t bother with a proper name for it.”

 

“You’ll mix it up when exams come,” Hermione predicted. “And Harry, Professor Lupin didn’t let me face the boggart, either. Or Min.”

 

Ron looked like he thought this was a very good idea, and as if Hermione should have realized this. No one was entirely sure what the results of that would be.

 

Aside from that, Professor Lupin was generally agreed to be the best Defense professor that even the seventh years could remember. Everyone but Lavender and Parvati agreed it was their favorite class, but that might have more to do with the fact that they trailed after Professor Trelawney like she had all the secrets of the universe. Ron noticed that Minisa had decided that she was very glad she hadn’t taken Divination, and she thought Professor Trelawney was awful. This had happened after finding out about Trewlawney predicting that Harry would die, because Minisa was like an even worse Crookshanks when people threatened her friends.

 

Ron kind of wished she was in Divination, though, because dealing with Hermione’s frustration and her _cat_ and Trelawney’s dramatics was kind of exhausting, especially with that incense.

 

(Minisa had mentioned that the Oracle at Delphi, wherever that was, had used a priestess and things that made you hallucinate, either from a volcano or just some plant. It sounded similar enough to the Divination classroom for Ron, anyway.)

 

 _And_ McGonagall wouldn’t let Harry go to Hogsmeade. Which just wasn’t fair. They probably should have just let Min’s cousin forge a signature, but he was pretty sure Hermione would have told.

 

~

 

Min’s bag was overflowing with sweets and joke products for him, the sparkling straps straining under the weight.

 

“We might have overdone it,” she said, biting her lip. “I did tuck some in my bag for my siblings.”

 

Harry grinned at Alyx and Alyssa’s probable reaction to some of the candy. “Ice Mice for Jon?”

 

Minisa clapped. “Yes! Thank you, I think I am brilliant, even if some people don’t agree.”

 

Parvati looked up. “I think I’m missing something.”

 

“My brother once walked his… dog in the snow. Barefoot. Didn’t even notice,” Minisa wrinkled her nose. “Rhaenys kept saying he was crazy.”

 

“The dark haired one?” Lavender said.

 

“Yes,” Minisa said, ignoring the baffling interest in her brother before looking at the bag. “Who thought Blood Pops were a good idea?” She paused. “I will swap you three Chocolate Frogs so I can send them to Rhae.”

 

Harry nodded. “Tell her I said hello.”

 

“Which one is that?” Dean asked. Everyone looked at him. “If it’s the tiny blonde…”

 

“Tiny but she has dark hair,” Min said, scrunching up her face. “I don’t think she’s taken me to the Express yet.”

 

“Did you get any work done?” Hermione asked. Harry explained about tea with Lupin, and the goblet Snape brought in.

 

“Well, if Lupin gets sick, we know Snape did it,” Ron said, noticing the others heading to the door. “Time for the feast.”

 

~

 

Of course, the feast was ruined by coming back to Gryffindor Tower to find out that an escaped mass murderer had decided to attack the Fat Lady. So there was now a school wide sleepover, which a cynical soul might suggest was trying to correct the mistake two Halloweens ago, when the response of the staff to the news of a loose troll had been to send the students trekking across the school.

 

They talked about it, between patrols from prefects and teachers alike. Hermione thought Black had been lucky, going when no one was in the tower, Ron thought he’d just forgotten the holiday. Harry didn’t say anything, and Minisa was wondering. Perhaps, instead of forgetting, he’d seen the enormous preparations for Halloween and decided to get into the Tower _because_ no one was there?

 

She’d ask Hermione about it, but Hermione was cross with everyone these days. Perhaps she’d talk to Fred and George tomorrow. And write to Aegon or Dany. Aegon, probably, he and Rhae had taught her to write in Spanish _and_ Arabic _and_ Persian. Though she wasn’t always very good. Rhaenys and Aegon had the most of their parents’ teaching style, which tended towards the Tudorish “cram it in while young, keep on cramming it”. Min had tried to keep up her writing skills, but Hogwarts kind of… wasn’t very good for it.

 

Maybe she’d write Tyrion Lannister. He was nice to her, and he was suspicious of everyone and everything. It could be fun to see if he agreed with her.

 

Maybe he’d come for Christmas this year. As long as he was kept from the liquor, he was a fun guest.

 

Especially since Snape seemed to think someone helped Black get into the castle, and Dumbledore didn’t. She was almost inclined to believe Dumbledore, but he trusted Snape, so how good could he really judge people?

 

She groaned into her pillow when she realized that the security was going to get worse. She was supposed to invite her friends to Danelle’s wedding on New Year’s, but would Harry be allowed to go? Mum wanted to show off that one of the children were getting married, and would throw fits if told that some creep would prevent that.

 

 

~

 

Things did, in fact, get worse. The arrogant, pompous, fickle painting that took over the Fat Lady's guard duties was in fact a lot worse than the Fat Lady. Sir Cadogan was just entirely brainless, and kept changing the password what felt like on a daily basis.

 

On top of that, Harry had barely been allowed to attend practices for Quidditch, except Madam Hooch agreed to supervise, and Minisa and a host of other Gryffindors took to sitting in the stands. Minisa was trying to learn to knit, but she wasn’t very good at it.

 

And then, of course, Snape took over one of Professor Lupin’s classes.

 

“He’s gloating,” Seamus muttered. Minisa nodded, wondering if faking sick would help. She was never entirely certain if Snape would ignore her or be directly rude.

 

Two things happened as Snape went into his embittered lesson on werewolves.

 

One happened after Snape had called Hermione an “insufferable know-it-all” and given Ron detention for standing up to her. This, it must be noted, showed an interesting character growth over the past two years from Ron. What it said about Snape’s maturity is to be speculated at. Hermione Granger paused in taking her notes, frowned a bit, then her eyes went wide with horror. Snape did not comment, though he looked a bit smug. Probably, he thought, Hermione would be too carried away by what she had put together and be unable to keep herself from sharing this news.

 

This was not, in fact, what had happened.

 

Two, Minisa Targaryen did not quite put together what Snape was getting at, not then. But she did pick up on how he was framing his discussion, how he wasn’t even pretending to be respectful of Professor Lupin. Possibly because the students respected Professor Lupin, while Snape was… tolerated? An unfortunate fact of their Hogwarts careers?

 

Someone who, if he tried again to do something like this on Minisa, was going to find himself feeding Rhaenys’ gardens?

 

Or Ghost. That would be ironic, possibly.

 

Of course, Snape had also wanted the Defense position, but he hadn’t… hmm. He hadn’t been the same type of vindictive. And all the other teachers had also been like that with Lockhart.

 

But the way he was talking made her very nervous. If he got like this about people who were human most of the time, what did he really want to say about her?

 

~

 

Minisa wasn’t casting a shadow.

 

Hermione’s brain was so busy that she really shouldn’t be noticing that at all, really, not with the Dementors and Harry and…

 

But Minisa wasn’t casting a shadow. Hermione could see Ron’s shadow, clear as day, and Professor McGonagall’s, and Fred and George’s.

 

But not Minisa, who seemed to also be flickering, a little bit.

 

When the Dementors came, harder to spot with the wild wind and the rain that got everywhere, people had gasped, and gathered together.

 

And Harry had fallen from his broom, and Ginny let out something like a scream, while Minisa…

 

Minisa had stood up and shouted, something harsh that was like what her brother had done, last Christmas, and blazing dragons had come up and flittled from along the stands, possibly singing the creatures.

 

She’d then turned horribly grey and swayed, falling almost on Percy, who had looked around.

 

“No one was paying attention to her,” he said, before turning to Harry’s slowed fall. Professor Dumbledore was holding out his wand, and he added, “Or they’ll think Dumbledore did it.”

 

“She didn’t do anything _wrong_ ,” Ron protested. Hermione wasn’t terribly sure about that- the Ministry would be very annoyed, she suspected, but even if they did, Min was in the middle of all of them- Penelope, Percy, Ron, Ginny, Seamus, Dean, Lavender, Parvati, Neville, and Ginny’s friend Luna, none of whom would be likely to tell tales.

 

“We’ll go to the Hospital Wing,” Percy said, instead of correcting his brother. “Minisa, are you alright?”

 

“I’ll be fine,” Min said, a bit slurred. “Hospital Wing sounds good.”

 

Ron handed her a bit of a chocolate bar. “What?” he asked Hermione. “It’s what Professor Lupin does.”

 

“Honestly,” Hermione muttered, slipping past a disgruntled older student.

 

They marched to the Hospital Wing, Ginny and Percy on either side of a swaying Minisa, watching as one of the professors headed towards the Whomping Willow.

 

“Do you think Black was on the grounds again?” Ginny asked, after a moment.

 

“No,” Hermione frowned. “This was the first match of the year, wasn't it?”

 

Ron nodded, before going pale. “You think that they came because of the match?”

 

“Well,” Minisa slurred, “I don't think their mums had to teach them manners.”

 

Ron gave her an odd look. “You sure you're alright?” he asked. She nodded.

 

“They saw a really big snack, when they can't feed like they normally do,” she said, eyes focusing a bit on something just past Ron's ear. “So they didn't ask if they could eat.”

 

Percy bit his lip. “She's probably right,” he admitted before opening the door.

 

“I think so too,” Hermione said, shaking her head to get rid of the worst of the rain. With her hair, there was a lot of rain. “But why didn't anyone think of it?”

 

“Well, they haven't left Azkaban in forever,” Ginny pointed out. “Maybe no one knew.”

 

“Could they get rid of them now?” Minisa asked. She was standing mostly upright now, but something was vaguely off about her. Which is when Hermione paused and looked at the shadows.

 

“Why didn't they bring Harry in yet?” Ginny asked, looking instinctively for Filch. He didn't like her much, even compared to the other students, which she couldn't really blame him for.

 

“Neck injuries can be really tricky,” Minisa said, “My sister looks at bones for work, and she said that she would like to wave the scary tools at people who think you can just move a neck or spine injury. Or a pelvis injury. That was after a giant car wreck not too far from the island, though. There was a fire.”

 

“Yeah, but Madam Pomfrey can regrow bones,” Ron said.

 

“I don't think Harry would like it if he had to do that again,” Hermione pointed out.

 

“He'd like walking more,” Minisa countered. She shivered. “He'll be alright.”

 

There was something very final in that.

 

~

 

Minisa scowled. Despite the fact that she was nearly six feet tall, Harry did not think of her as intimidating. Maybe it was the freckles.

 

Or maybe it was the overwhelming numbness that came from the loss of his Nimbus.

 

But Minisa was looking at him firmly. “You,” she said, “are hiding something. Fred and George said you saw something _before_ the Dementors came.”

 

“They did?” Harry wished they hadn't noticed. He frowned. “Your eyes look weird.”

 

“Lavender wanted to practice eye make-up, and Danelle out some in my trunk,” Minisa said, blushing a bit. It was not, as it happens, the full story, but it covered enough.

 

He sighed and wondered if he flopped his face into the pillow that she'd go away. “I don't want to talk about it.”

 

“And I don't want you dead, but you seem determined to disappoint me,” Minisa said. If Rhaegar or his siblings were there, they would have instinctively looked around for their mother. “So talk, or I will make your Christmas miserable. Do you want my mum to ask this?”

 

Harry sighed again, and admitted that at least Minisa wouldn't panic like Ron or be as doubtful as Hermione. He told her about the black dog he'd kept seeing, and how he thought it might be a Grim, and could it be trying to hound him to his death?

 

Minisa listened, biting her lip. “Okay, if you saw it before the book, too, I think something might be following you. I don't know if its a Grim, but something.”

 

Harry nodded, feeling relieved.

 

“I can ask Rhae- death stuff is all her area, so she might know more, or something to keep it away,” she added. “She should have something by Christmas, anyway.”

 

Harry nodded, feeling a lot lighter.

 

Now if only he could figure out his broom problem. Or, better yet, his dementor problem.

 

~

Hermione was looking at the shops nervously. She should probably get a present or something for the wedding Minisa had invited them to. She'd said not to worry about a dress, that Hermione could pull off something that belonged to Rhaenys' cousins, she'd already checked since it was such short notice.

 

“You don't mind orange, though?” Minisa frowned. “Loreza's stuff should fit, but most of them are orange or red. And Danelle is Danelle- most of the formal's going to be from the Tyrells, so we don't have to worry too much.”

 

“I don't,” Hermione said, shaking her head. “Though why are you asking Rhaenys' cousin?”

 

“Because Danelle and Senya are tall like me, anything Alyssa wears is not going to work for you, and Rhaenys is maybe five feet tall if she wears thick shoes,” Minisa said frankly. “Also, Dany dresses to annoy my Dad.”

 

Hermione couldn't argue with that. Alyssa wasn't as tall as her sister, but she liked to wear icy colors that played up her fluttery, almost washed out coloring.

 

Also, after her last growth spurt, Hermione barely came up to Minisa's shoulder. With... other aspects of her friend considered, Hermione would be swimming in Minisa's dresses.

 

“Do you think we should have stayed?” Hermione fretted instead.

 

“We have things we need to get done,” Minisa said firmly, looking for Ron. “I'm going to get that perfume for Danelle.”

 

Ron chose then to walk up. “Guess what?” he whispered.

 

“Let me pay and then I'll guess,” Minisa said, running to the counter.

 

They barely got outside when Hermione noticed the fourth set of footprints in the snow, and the faint dragging of something behind them.

 

“Harry?” Hermione guessed.

 

Hermione, to no one's surprise, was deeply unhappy about the Map.

 

~

 

The Three Broomsticks was wonderful, warm and busy enough that they should be able to hide Harry.

 

Also, Minisa wanted to know where Madam Rosemerta bought her glittery turquoise heels.

 

She sipped her Butterbeer, before noticing a green bowler hat and wincing.

 

“Oh, lovely,” she muttered. In her head, where Hermione couldn't hear, she muttered some phrases she got from Aegon and Uncle Edmure. Nothing good came from Fudge.

 

As she listened to Fudge and the others talk about how close Sirius Black had been to Harry's dad, and feeling the waves of shock and slow dawning horror come from Harry, she was forced to agree.

 

Judging by Hermione's wide brown eyes, mouth slightly open, she realized what was about to be said right before Minisa.

 

Malfoy had known something they hadn't, something he was trying to use to get Harry to run off and get killed. That Harry's parents had been betrayed, and that the person who did it had tried to break into Hogwarts to finish the job.

 

“Oh, _balls_ ,” she muttered.

 

Hermione was too upset to comment.

 

~

 

The dinner the night before the wedding wasn't horrible, but it was a lot to take. The past few days had been stressful. First there had been the revelations about Black. Then there had been going to Hagrid's so Harry could ask questions... and being derailed because Buckbeak was about to have a hearing about attacking Malfoy. The dementors had been at the edges of the train platform, making Harry woozy until Minisa had wrapped her hand around his wrist and smiled sharply.

 

“Look, it's Dany!” she said, gleefully.

 

Dany Targaryen was indeed waiting at the edges of the platform, looking faintly metallic and seeming to shine, faintly.

 

“I have a piece to edit, but I've been worried,” she said. “So I chose to make a door.”

 

“Did Dad send you?” Minisa asked.

 

“Your mother, actually,” Dany said. “Also Alyssa.”

 

Minisa frowned at that. Alyssa wasn't terribly powerful- she didn't have a mantle like Dany or Aegon- but she was prone to dragon dreams. Aegon had mentioned that was probably one of the reasons she and Alyx isolated themselves like they did. “Did she say why?”

 

“More of a general thing, I think,” Dany frowned. “Pivots, a great black hound crowned in white asphodel and stargazer lilies, a glowing fish, and what I think are those ringwraith knockoffs.” She raised an eyebrow. “Maybe next time I'll do it in the castle.”

 

They'd gotten to Dragonstone quickly, Hermione frowning after the portal. “What if they'd tried to follow you?”

 

“I'd have lit them up,” said Aegon with an easy smile, easing himself off a tumbling stone wall. “Hello.”

 

They'd gone up the path- it was a good deal closer than the one last year, with a faint dusting of snow on the ground.

 

“It'll snow tonight, I think,” Aegon said, absently. “It'll give enough time to clear what needs to be cleared, but not melt too much. Danelle will have her pretty Christmas wedding.”

 

“Margaery wants the pretty Christmas wedding,” Dany pointed out. “Danelle just wants to marry Margaery.”

 

“Margaery's family wants the pretty Christmas wedding,” said another voice, one the non-Targaryens didn't recognize. It was a freckled redheaded woman with a foxlike face and hazel eyes, wearing a smart plum colored jacket. “Uncle Mace dotes on Margie, and he has really elaborate ideas about what doting means.” She tilted her head. “Minnie, hello.”

 

“Hello, Mera,” Minisa said, grinning evilly at her brother. Aegon had gone faintly red and was looking anywhere but at his sister. “Harry, Hermione, Ron, this is Desmera Redwyne, a friend of my brother's.”

 

“A friend,” Dany asked, a hint of a smile on her face.

 

“Dany, remember when you called me from another country because you'd impulsively gotten married to a blue haired mercenary?” Aegon asked, with an edged sort of politeness.

 

“Aegon invited me as a guest, so I didn't have to deal with my brothers tormenting me about not getting a date,” Desmera said. “Also, I think his mothers had a list of possible dates.”

“Rhaenys had one, too,” Dany pointed out. “And then she said she's taking Tyrion, so she has someone sensible to talk to.”

 

“Also because Jaime Lannister ran off with Brienne, shocking everyone, and Edmure is engaged, and if she brought Walda the island would explode,” Aegon sighed. “Let's go.”

 

The dinner wasn't formal- apparently Margaery had put her foot down and it went not entirely differently from the last Christmas dinner, except there was a sort of coherent planning involved and the adults were drinking wine and toasting the couple.

 

Minisa looked slightly wan, though.

 

~

 

There was room enough at Dragonstone that each of her friends could have their own room- Hermione went into the Library Tower not far from the Twins, Ron and Harry had adjoining rooms overlooking the coast.

 

Minisa was therefore in her own room- one she and her mother had decorated, with pale, soft-edged woods, a sitting window, and a gauzy canopy over her bed.

 

And even though she knew she was safe, she couldn’t sleep.

 

There was a soft knock at her door, and Rhaenys came in, still dressed for church, with snow melting in her hair. She flicked on the light as she closed the door.

 

“Little fish,” Rhaenys said, walking over to the bed. “Aegon mentioned that you were upset?”

 

“Did Dany talk to you?” she asked. “Or Alyssa?”

 

Rhaenys shook her head. “No, not yet.” She gave her sister a look that said she would, and soon, before kicking off her heels. “So, what happened?”

 

“Don’t tell Mum or Dad?” Minisa asked. She doubted that he missed the bit about someone trying to kill Harry. But the Dementors and them coming to the match…

 

She could smell asphodel and cinnamon rising and knew no one else would hear her cry. Mother wouldn’t let her go back if she saw Min cry, she’d go and raise hell and probably break someone.

 

Rhaenys’ hands were steady as she smoothed her hair. “Hush, now, Minnie. It’s going to be alright. Just tell me what needs to be done.”

 

~

  
  


 

“What is that?” Alyx asked, violet eyes narrowed.

 

Harry opened the long, suspiciously familiar shape of the present, seeing...

 

“A Firebolt?” Ron breathed. “How?”

 

Hermione frowned. “Who?”

 

“It's like the... AEGON,” Minisa shouted. “What's the James Bond car?”

 

“Astin Martin,” Aegon said, looking up from the blood red knitted arm warmers Lysa had made for him. “Is the point luxury or speed, though?”

 

“Bit of both,” Harry hazarded.

 

“Bugatti might be a better comparison,” Aegon corrected himself. “So who would get it for you?”

 

Rhaenys, who was holding a very large coffee mug that advertised the “Bad Decisions Book Club”, tilted her head. “There doesn't seem to be anything too nasty there, but Dad's better at that sort of thing.” Crookshanks was curled up between her and Hermione, and behaving. Ron had asked Percy if he could watch Scabbers, given Crookshanks and Rhaenys' Mori and Watson.

 

“What if Sirius Black sent it?” Hermione asked.

 

“That would be a very expensive assassination plot,” Dany frowned. “And doesn't quite fit with what Min said happened on Halloween. Where would he get the money?”

 

“He could have stolen it,” Alyssa pointed our, looking up from a very thick book on cryptography. There was, Harry had winced to see, also been a very pretty tarot deck sitting under her knee.

 

“He'd have to get to London, though,” Min pointed out. “

 

And then no one would have known about the theft,” Rhaenys agreed. “Lysa-mum, are you alright?”

 

“I think your father should look at it,” Lysa said, putting down a quilt. “He won't damage it, dear, but I'd feel more comfortable.”

 

“Dany or Senya could catch you if it tries to toss you like a bull,” Alyx pointed out. “You could try it here, if Dad clears it.”

 

“After the ceremony,” Lysa said, looking at her watch. “Right, dear?”

 

Rhaegar looked up from a pretty version of some old book. “Yes, of course.” He frowned, and looked at Harry with a suddenly sharp expression. “Now, what was this I heard about someone trying to kill you?”

 

“After the wedding, love,” Lysa said.

 

~

 

Hermione was mostly mollified about the Firebolt, after Mr. Targaryen took most of Boxing Day to look over it and proclaimed it clear of anything but the manufacturer's spellwork.

 

“Fascinating, really,” he said, looking over it. “I think I really should speak with Arthur Weasley about his car again. The complexity of the work is mindboggling.”

 

“Ah, Mr. Weasley wasn't actually supposed to drive the car... anywhere,” Minisa admitted. Her father looked up and blinked.

 

“Why?”

 

“There are laws,” Hermione pointed out.

 

“The invisibility booster wasn't working properly,” Harry added, because that felt a bit more practical.

 

“Mmm,” Mr. Targaryen frowned. “I still want to speak with him. It might be interesting to see what could be done if you combined the two forms of magic.”

 

Hermione, feeling faintly guilty, wondered if Mr. Targaryen remembered that his youngest daughter was in fact a good starting point.

 

Maybe he was thinking about the rules about underage magic, she told herself.

 

Hermione, in this case, was being overly optimistic.

 

“Madam Hooch will be watching his practices,” Minisa pointed out, later.

 

“McGonagall is going to want to watch, when she sees that,” Ron predicted.

 

Harry frowned. “Do you really think Black would send it to me?”

 

“If it was jinxed, then yes,” Hermione admitted. “Who else would?”

 

“Uncle Viserys on a bender?” Minisa guessed. “But I think Mum would have noticed if the accounts were missing that much.”

 

“I don't think your Uncle likes me that much,” Harry pointed out, pushing his glasses up.

“Oh, no, he likes you fine,” Minisa waved her hand. “He's like that to everyone.”

 

And she was right- Professor McGonagall had scowled at the Firebolt, turned faintly grey when Minisa explained her father had looked at it, and then Ron added that Ron, Alyx, and Harry had all tested it.

 

Finally, she sighed and smiled. “Well, our chances are certainly improved, now. I will be supervising your practices, however.”

 

“That'll be great, Professor,” Harry said. “You won't regret it.”

 

~

 

Harry looked tired after his Patronus lesson with Professor Lupin, but he was also looking grimly determined.

 

Ron, however, looked baffled. “How is she doing it?”

 

“Doing what?” Harry asked, not looking up from his Potions essay.

 

“Going to all her classes!” Ron muttered. He pointed out that Divination lessons kept overlapping with Muggle Studies, and Care of Magical Creatures and Arithmancy.

 

Minisa frowned, looking at her Ancient Runes homework. “She's been really stressed lately,” she mused. “And she keeps vanishing without telling us.”

 

“Yeah,” Ron sat back in his chair. “Min, has she told you anything?”

 

Minisa gave him a Look. “Ron, if she had, would I have been trying to figure it out?”

 

“Probably not,” Ron admitted. “But if she does tell you...”

 

Minisa was about to snap that Hermione didn't exactly like telling her secrets, but she thought better of it. Her little hint dropping about why Professor Lupin had been ill was just annoying. If Hermione had

acted like she didn't want to tell them, it would be one thing. But she was acting like they were stupid for not having figured it out, when no one else seemed to have.

 

“I'll tell you,” Minisa promised.

 

That seemed to be enough, until a few weeks later, when Ron went up to his dorm to get a piece of homework he'd nearly forgotten, and came down shouting and carrying a bedsheet.

 

“I told you,” he went up to Hermione. “That cat of yours, I told you!”

 

“What happened?” Harry asked.

 

“I went up and I found this!” Ron waved the sheet, which was covered with a red substance that looked terribly like blood.

 

“No, no,” Hermione said into her hands, and Minisa frowned. Something about this seemed odd.

“And look what I found on the floor,” Ron said, holding up several long ginger cat hairs.

 

“Only on the floor?” Minisa whispered. Why did that bother her?

 

Mori liked to pounce on mice on the edges of Stargazer, and had been teaching Watson.

 

And Mori wasn't quite a normal cat, but he was very much a Maine Coone, and about as big and shaggy furred as Crookshanks. Fur got everywhere. Watson was a Siamese, and cream colored cat fir seemed to just... appear.

 

There was orange-y hair over all the girl's beds at this point, and Lavender had found a spell for it in one of those house-witch magazines her mother had sent.

 

Minisa would ask Lavender and Parvati if they thought it was weird, maybe. But then again, who could get into Ron's dorm and frame Crookshanks for killing Scabbers? Who would want to?

 

~

 

There was a faint and slightly weird division between their friends after that. Harry, Seamus, and Dean believed Ron but weren't angry at Hermione, who they pointed out could not have reasonably kept Crookshanks out of the _boys'_ dorm. Hermione at first thought they were siding with Ron, and was angry at all of them, though Minisa pointed out that Hermione had already been very stressed from all of her classes.

 

Neville, Lavender, and Parvati all believed Hermione, if only because Crookshanks had never gotten into the boys' dorm before, and Minisa had pointed out how weird the lack of fur in the bedsheets seemed to her. But none of them could come up with a reasonable idea.

 

Percy was seeming guilty about trading Scabbers for Hermes, and covered it by being extra starched. Unless, of course, Penelope Clearwater was involved. This included, the morning of the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw match, admitting that he'd made a bet with money he didn't have to impress her. Or to humor her. Minisa wasn't sure which, and Fred and George were too flabbergasted to speculate.

 

On the Scabbers front, Fred and George just thought that Ron was overreacting. Ginny was mildly horrified by some of their attempts to humorize Scabber's probable death.

 

Ron still wasn't talking to Hermione, not even during the party for the win against Ravenclaw. In fact, he was loudly commenting on Scabbers' fate and how much the rat would have enjoyed the party. Lavender was giggling a bit about it, but Hermione's miserable face as she tried to drown herself in a textbook just wasn't right.

 

“Ron really needs to get things in perspective,” Oliver Wood said.

 

Katie Bell laughed. “The game was more important than his rat?” she asked.

 

“Well, yes,” Oliver looked a bit like a startled bird. “Don't you think so?”

 

“It's more rewarding,” Angelina reassured him.

 

“He does need to get over himself,” Minisa muttered, sinking further into her chair. She might not tease Rhae about her demon cats anymore.

 

And then, as if she had brought the fate on him, Sirius Black got into the Tower and slashed Ron's curtains to shreds. Apparently he'd stolen Neville's copy of the passwords for the week.

 

After surviving it, Ron seemed to enjoy his fame, at any rate, while Neville was punished all around.

 

“It's not like we didn't say the barmy portrait was useless,” Seamus had said after Neville's Gran sent a Howler.

 

Still, Hagrid summoned them to his cabin one evening, escorting Harry, Ron, and Minisa from the Entrance Hall. He wanted to discuss two things. One was Buckbeak's trial, which made Minisa's heart sink like a stone. She really didn't trust that Buckbeak would get a fair hearing, not after Draco had made a cake out of himself like that for so long. And she had no doubt his father wanted to get petty vengeance for what happened last year.

 

He also wanted to discuss Hermione, and Minisa almost enjoyed seeing how Ron and Harry squirmed as Hagrid gently chided them for ignoring her.

 

“And you, missy,” he said, looking at Minisa.

 

“I talk to her!” Minisa protested. “She just ducks anything that isn't schoolwork!”

 

Hagrid looked at her suspiciously, but she was telling the truth. Mostly.

 

She wondered if Hermione hadn't stopped being afraid of her after the train, or the match. Or maybe she was afraid that she would tell Minisa whatever was bugging her.

 

But that meant that some of Hermione's more bossy or knowing comments grated more.

 

And then she threatened to tell McGonagall about the Map, which would help absolutely no one. Harry would go crazy if they kept him at Hogwarts.

 

Also, Black had gotten into Hogwarts! Twice! Why not attack when most of the school and a good part of the teachers were out?

 

Hermione seemed annoyed when Minisa pointed this out. “He hasn't yet, and if Harry goes and gets attacked while in Hogsmeade...”

 

“Surrounded by loads of people, including a lot of adults,” Minisa started pacing. “Hermione, do you really want Harry left with no one nearby but a bunch of first and second years?”

 

Hermione frowned. “Surely not all the teachers will go.”

 

“Snape and Filch don't count,” Minisa said.

 

“Snape is a teacher,” Hermione pointed out.

 

“If Black tries to kill Harry and Snape sees, he'll probably just help finish Harry off,” Minisa snorted.

 

Hermione would most likely have been smug when Harry nearly got caught by Snape coming back from Hogsmeade, and Professor Lupin confiscated the Map. Minisa was readying herself for an argument when she saw Hermione's tear struck face.

 

Buckbeak was going to be executed.

 

There were two good things about this, however. One was that Ron and Hermione were fine again.

 

The second was just after Care of Magical Creatures, when Hagrid was bewailing Buckbeak's fate.

 

Draco was gloating about Buckbeak's upcoming execution, and Minisa had that alarming expression that made them wonder if Draco was finally about to be turned into twitching slime.

 

Hermione straightened up- looking ashen and with enormous circles under her eyes, hair flying wildly, and looking thoroughly done.

 

The punch was beautifully done, sending the boy flying to the ground.

 

If she hadn't followed it up by vanishing before getting to Charms, and then being found hours later napping at on a textbook, it would have been amazing.

 

Now, they were a bit worried that it was a sign she was cracking up. Especially when added to her storming out of Divination, as Ron gleefully recalled to Minisa later, Harry grinning slightly the entire time.

 

“You've wanted someone to call her out since your first lesson, haven't you?” Minisa said to him.

 

“Yeah,” he admitted. He seemed to think this might be rude, so he added, “She predicted my death.”

 

Minisa's shoulders tensed a bit at that, and Harry knew if Ron wasn't there, she'd ask if that was related to the Grim.

 

Then she groaned and slammed her head against the back of an armchair. “Why does she have to be so... Hermione?”

 

Ron looked at her. “...what?”

 

“Lavender and Parvati idolize Trelawney,” Minisa said, slow enough to hammer the point in.

 

“Yeah, it's annoying,” Ron was clearly trying to be agreeable, though Harry thought he got it.

 

“They're going to be furious at her,” he said, gloomily.

 

“It doesn't help that Hermione got snippy about Lavender's make up yesterday,” Minisa groaned. “She asked why it needed to take up so much of the bathroom.”

 

“Why did it need to take up so much space?” Ron asked. This made it clear that while Ron only had one younger sister and a great deal of older brothers, Minisa had grown up with a lot of women sharing a house.

 

“Because objects take up space, Ronald,” Minisa said, crossing her arms.

 

“Okay, then,” Ron left it at that. Besides, even without Divination, Hermione still had more classes than the rest of them.

 

~

 

After winning the Cup for their Quidditch Match, it seemed fair that the year would wind up as delightfully. But Draco was still gleefully predicting Buckbeak's death, even when a pair of long, furry ears grew up and started twitching.

 

“Did you give him ass ears?” Hermione asked her tiredly, going through her notes with ruthless precision.

 

“He was acting like a braying jackass,” Minisa said primly, before swiping the carrots from Ron.

 

There were also exams on top of trying to help Hagrid with Buckbeak's appeal, though Minisa was fairly sure the outcome was already planned.

 

Maybe they could hide him on Dragonstone? Except then Hagrid would get in trouble.

 

To make matters worse, Fudge had come in, apparently to see something about the whole Black mess. (If he actually got Dementors to come over the property line- or worse, to search the building- Minisa gave up. She'd tell her father everything and just hope the damage wasn't too bad.)

 

He seemed to think the appeal was useless, and Hermione trod on Minisa's foot before anything happened.

 

And when the note from Hagrid said that their worst fears were right, they snuck out to his cottage.

 

Where they found something very peculiar.

 

“It's Scabbers!” Hermione gasped into a jug as Ron fetched out a balding, clearly disgruntled Scabbers.

 

Minisa sighed, and was almost relieved that they had to go and avoid Fudge. She didn't feel like discussing any of this right now, her brain hurt.

 

She also wasn't sure if Ron could keep Scabbers even to the castle, given how badly the rat was fighting.

 

Crookshanks appeared halfway to the castle, causing Scabbers to go flying and Ron to duck out from underneath the rather cramped Invisibility Cloak. (Minisa really did need to learn how to go about unnoticed, it would be so useful.)

 

“The grim,” Harry hissed in her ear, just as they ran after Ron and dislodged the cloak.

 

The dog- she didn't think it was a Grim, not really- tackled Harry, before rolling off and making for Ron, for some reason. The dog grabbed him by the leg and dragged him towards the Whomping Willow.

 

Minisa frowned, trying to remember what Alyssa's dream had been, as they raced after Ron. Of course, dragon dreams were annoying and mostly useless, because trying to interpret them drove people to drink.

 

Literally, in a few cases.

 

Lillies and asphodel, crowning a great black dog... she remembered halfway through the tunnel. White asphodel and _stargazer_ lillies.

 

What on earth did Rhaenys have to do with this? She had made sure they had the dementor-charms, true. But if someone was going to actually show up and help, Minisa would think it would be Jon. Or maybe Aegon, since something had been going on with Jon's job and he nearly didn't even make Danelle's wedding. But stargazer lillies had grown around her tower since Shiera Seastar planted them, and Rhaenys had taught her about white asphodel and how it grew in the Greek Underworld, and how pretty and poisonous it was.

 

Also, Alyssa cared about her twin. The only occasional exceptions was her family. In a flickering, dim, way.

 

“What's wrong?” Hermione asked.

 

“I hate my family,” Minisa muttered. “Alyssa dreamed something about a great big dog, but it doesn't fit.” Because while a death omen would love Rhaenys, Rhaenys said she didn't know of any loose.

 

“We're here,” Harry said, looking around.

 

“I think this is Shrieking Shack,” Hermione said, looking at a very alarming looking couch. Couches could sag, but she didn't think they should have three legs scattered in pieces across the room.

 

“I don't think ghosts can do this,” Harry said.

 

Minisa looked around. “Well, wizarding ones can't.”

 

“I am asking _later_ ,” Harry said, before they snuck upstairs.

 

“It's a trap,” was the first thing they heard, then “he's an animagus!”

 

So why would a murderous animagus be linked to Rhaenys? He wasn't a necromancer- she didn't have the acid taste in the back of her throat that Dad had warned her happened after your powers stopped the initial surge and you ran into one.

 

Professor Lupin was, however, a werewolf, and that was one of the secrets Hermione was keeping.

 

“Wait, did Snape actually make all of us write essays about how to kill you?” Minisa asked, eyes wide. “That diseased little c...”

 

“MINISA,” Hermione shouted.

 

“My language is not the point,” Minisa said, because she might be judging Hermione for focusing on that right now. “Also, Uncle Viserys said it, so you know it is nasty. Also, he nearly got me killed last year!”

 

“Why does this not surprise me?” Black asked no one in particular.

 

“We need to see Ron's rat,” Professor Lupin reminded them, and it turned out that Sirius Black was not the only animagus in the Shack that night.

 

Mum, Minisa decided, was going to murder someone herself, and she was pretty sure Harry's sad eyes weren't going to sway her.

 

Especially since Snape had to swoop in and prove that he was incapable of not ruining things. Or listening.

 

“Minisa,” Harry said, sounding understandably like someone who was not quite sure if they were dreaming, “could you please just lose your temper again?”

 

“Professor Dumbledore will know it was me,” Minisa said mournfully. “And I think the weird twitching is me.”

 

Black looked baffled, provoking Lupin to pat him on the shoulder.

 

“Miss Targaryen is very unique,” he explained. “And very responsible about it,” he continued, looking at her meaningfully.

 

“I actually have seven older siblings,” Minisa smiled as she kicked at a very worrisome dust bunny. “They're all like me.”

 

Hermione might have snorted at the grey color Professor Lupin turned at that. “Ah,” he said, before turning to the steps. “Shall we, then?”

 

~

 

Harry frowned at Minisa, who still looked very grey after dealing with the Dementors. There were a few other things that made him concerned, about the careful, close-mouthed smile she gave Dumbledore, and the way she twisted her hands under the blankets.

 

Her eyes were blazing, though, and there was the sound of a flooded river at the edges of his hearing.

 

“I wouldn't listen to a thing Professor Snape says,” she said, with a voice sharp enough to cut through stone. “He behaves worse than some of the first years, ask anyone who wasn't sorted into Slytherin. He called Hermione an insufferable know-it-all for asking a question, and that's the least of it.” She tilted her chin up. “And he'd rather have Neville Longbottom get hurt- or be forced to poison his pet- rather than let anyone help him in class. He's been nattering on about getting Harry kicked out since like the first week.”

 

This was all technically true, Harry had to admit. But it was weird, like Minisa wasn't really Minisa. Something about how her face was set, the way she was talking.

 

“Targaryen has even less regards for the rules than Potter,” Snape told the Minister. “I have reason to believe she is dabbling in experimental spells on herself...”

 

“He didn't say I was lying,” Minisa pointed out.

 

“She's not,” Hermione said. “All of us know it- we were warned by the older students on our first night that he was unfair and he'd take points off for breathing, even.”

 

Harry was listening to all this and had the vague thought that Snape might not be teaching next year, unless Professor Dumbledore was very clever about handling this. Minisa had looked over her complaint notebooks with Aegon during Christmas, and had been plotting to send them to the school governors soon.

 

Also, if this got as bad as Snape wanted it to go, he would probably just end up dead. Or in a padded room. Did the wizarding world even have padded rooms?

 

“Be that as it may, there is still the matter of Black to focus on,” Fudge said. “You put yourselves in a lot of danger...”

 

“ _But he didn't do it_!” Harry shouted. “We saw Pettigrew!”

 

“And it does fit, when you think about it,” Hermione added. “He was trying to get into the tower when the Feast was going on and Pettigrew was alone, why he went for Ron's bed and didn't seem to act like it was a mistake...”

 

“He's in Hogwarts... well, he was, as Scabbers,” Harry added, trying to keep calm. “Plus, rats don't live twelve years, and Scabbers was found twelve years ago in a garden.”

 

“We probably should have realized that something was off when the witch at the pet shop mentioned it,” Hermione sighed.

 

“It makes more sense,” Minisa finished. Professor Snape was twitching.

 

“Clearly it was a very strong Confundus,” Snape continued.

 

“On all of us?” Ron frowned.

 

That was the point where Madam Pomfrey kicked Snape and Fudge out, earning a loud, “Oh, good, I don't _want_ him near me when I'm passed out” from Minisa.

 

“I'm being a brat,” she said before Hermione could say anything. “But I am _so_ mad right now. They're not going to listen. We kept calm like we're supposed to, we pointed out good arguments, but he's going to listen to Snape.” She sighed. “Does anyone have a knife?”

 

Before anyone could answer that disturbing question, Professor Dumbledore came in.

 

Hermione, after revealing her time turner and hatching the beginnings of a plan, turned to Minisa. “I don't think you should...”

 

“No, that would be bad,” Minisa agreed. “I think I'll wait here... wait!” She leapt for her bag. “Harry, some of this should come from you, but...” She pulled out a spare bit of parchment and a pink pen.

 

Professor Dumbledore looked at her from over his glasses. “Miss Targaryen?”

 

“Just an idea I had,” Minisa said, seeming to ease back into normal for her a bit, though her smile had noticeably pointy teeth.

 

She handed the paper to Harry. “Finish it and give it to him. It'll help, promise.”

 

Harry took the paper and opened it. “Really?”

 

“Think about it, it's perfect,” Minisa bounced in the hospital bed. “Now, go!”

 

~

 

The compartment was very quiet as they headed down to London. Mrs. Targaryen had written a brief note that had appeared in a burst of bronze flame, and it said that Minisa was very much taking the train, because they needed to talk.

 

Professor Lupin had been forced to resign, causing a great deal of outrage among the students. After all, he actually taught the subject, and he taught it in an interesting way. Yes, he was a werewolf, Angelina had said, but he hadn't hurt anyone, and some people couldn't claim that.

 

She didn't look at Snape as she said that- a potions class where someone had swapped her ingredients had been the last entry in the complaint book, before it had been copied and sent to the school governors, McGonagall, and the aunt of one of the sixth-years, who worked on the tests the fifth and seventh years took.

 

Minisa had sent them with a serene air that worried some of the other students. They weren't actually sure if it would help, but they all heard Snape shouting about the dementors and how they should have Kissed somebody. It was probably Black, but someone had let it slip that Harry had been surrounded by the creatures, and everyone knew how badly Snape hated Harry. So they couldn't be sure, could they?

 

Professor Dumbledore was not going to have a pleasant summer with that mess.

 

“So,” Ron asked, looking at the tiny fluffball of an owl now zooming about the compartment, “where did you send Sirius to, then?”

 

Minisa smiled wickedly. “Oh, you'll find out.”

 

 

 


	6. Persephone, in her mother's garden

Sirius looked at the gate, then looked at the directions. Harry and his friend- the redheaded girl, the one with the eerie eyes- they had both written the note. Harry had added a post-script- 

_ I know some people think Min’s family is a bit weird, but they are nice. And Rhaenys is good with fixing things. She’ll be able to help.  _

He pressed down at the moonstone button on the side, wondering what this Rhaenys was like. Probably about the age little Dora would be, and judging by the sister, probably tall, pale, and soft, like some kind of cross between the Weasleys and that roane girl he’d met working for the Order…

The gate gave way, and it was unexpectedly silent, the only noise made by his bare feet as he crossed the threshold, and frowned.

There was a riot of flowers, roses of unexpected colors, lavender, trailing vines, and sweeping stone benches, barely held in some sort of order. 

There were orange trees, which… did they even grow here? 

All of it led up to what must be Stargazer Tower, what the kids had wrote was her home. Inherited from a great-uncle-ish and his wife, had been the exact words.

There was a woman sitting on the bench and sketching, until she must have sensed him, great dark eyes staring at him.

“Oh,” she said, frowning. “You’re early. Which is good, I suppose… where are your shoes?”

“They had half the North Sea in them, they weren’t doing me any good,” he said. That had been ages ago, when he'd first escaped. He'd stolen a pair at one point, near Christmas, but they made his feet blister and he'd been spending so much time as Padfoot...

She looked nothing like her sister- well, sort of. They had the same expression of curiosity on them, rather like a dragon faced with something new and possibly interesting. But her hair was a riot of dark curls, and she wasn’t pale at all- spun-sunlight, maybe, to go with a full mouth that matched the dark red roses framing her. And she looked delicate enough that she might blow away with the next strong wind.

There was a presence, one that the letter had understated. He wanted to just take a nap right now, feel the surprisingly strong sun on him and not bother with worry.

“Well, I’ll put that on the to-do list,” she said. 

“Who are you,” he asked, and winced when he realizes that the words were sharp and ragged and meant “ _ what _ are you”.

“Rhaenys Targaryen,” she said, and the smile is slightly rueful and his eyes close for a moment, asleep on his feet. “This happens, occasionally. My brothers love to mock me about it- they say I spend too much time with the dead, and not enough to blend with the living. I’ve never seen anyone so content at my tower, though.” There was a faint hint of surprise in her smoky voice at that, surprise and... not delight, maybe. But something like it.

Sirius grinned. “I spent twelve years in Azkaban. After that, pretty much anywhere would be paradise.” He looked around, and made his way closer to one of the benches. “This is… this is something else entirely.”

“A sanctuary,” she said, putting down her notepad. “It passes through the… peculiar, even for my family. I’ve lived here since I was eighteen. There are rooms enough if you want to stay, and I’m certain that Minisa will find an excuse to bring Harry to the Island this summer. No one here will give you away.” She bit her lip, looking hopeful and almost ready to be rejected. “That is, if you want to stay. I won’t force…”

“If you’ll have me,” Sirius interrupted, “I think this will work.”


	7. Vague Fears and Imaginings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title is a Dracula reference, I have needed to sleep for a week this entire month, have a happy shopping holiday for those who celebrate?

Year 4

 

Lysa Tully Targaryen had lasted precisely two weeks before she smiled at her husband and declared that they were going to go fetch Harry.

“I thought there were reasons that the boy had to stay with his aunt,” Rhaegar said, raising his eyes from the latest dispute between the Lannisters and the Baratheons.

“He doesn't have to stay the whole summer,” Minisa bounced on her toes. She was holding the bag of “girl stuff” she and her mother had picked out, which usually got her father to stop asking questions.

“And whatever reasons they have will mean nothing if the boy dies in that house,” Lysa said. She was maybe overselling it, but a quarter of a grapefruit did not a meal make. “He'll only be here until August, at any rate. The Weasleys will take him then, to go see the World Cup.”

Minisa gave her father another baleful glare. She had wanted to go, but Rhaegar had rather unexpectedly put his foot down- Minisa was not allowed to leave this summer for more than a day trip.

Possibly the reason for this was living down the island at Stargazer Tower with Rhaenys. Sirius and Rhaenys got along splendidly- Sirius at least seemed to understand that Rhaenys' quiet meant she was shy, not a bitch. And Sirius needed the quiet- in proper daylight he looked even more like a skeleton than usual, though a couple of weeks at Stargazer meant he had put on some color and looked capable of moving under his own power.

Harry would be thrilled to see him properly, too, which is why Harry was coming to Dragonstone.

“The boy will stay at Stargazer, then, and only come if Rhaenys agrees,” Rhaegar said finally. “Who is going to go fetch him?” He crooked a smile at his wife. “I know how you feel about long drives, my dear.”

“Jon agreed to do so,” Lysa beamed, and Minisa ducked out to ask Rhaenys.

 

~

 

“Why,” Minisa asked, thunking her head on the back of the train seat, “do I always miss all of the interesting things?”

Ron, who had missed most of them himself, looked up. “It was scary,” he admitted. “If it wasn't for the Cup...”

“I'm not sure the Cup was worth it,” Hermione said, as Aegon stepped in, carrying her trunk.

“I saw Miss Granger here,” he said, looking curiously at Minisa. “And offered to help.”

Minisa groaned. “Sorry, I just... Harry's kind of mooning after my sister, its weird.”

“It's hilarious,” Aegon corrected. “And very passing.” He blinked. “Hopefully. Then it might get awkward.”

“Wait, why?” Hermione asked suspiciously. Given the fact that Hermione had probably started blushing the second she saw Aegon, she didn't have room to be suspicious. “And which sister?”

“The poor boy stayed at Stargazer for a time- I think my father didn't want a male guest of Min's staying under the same roof,” Aegon smiled, eyes crinkling a bit at the corners.

Oh, _Hermione_. “So he was helping her with her new dog,” Minisa added. Ron gaped.

“That's brilliant,” he said.

“No one will think to look there,” Hermione agreed, clapping her hands together.

“And Harry doesn't have to worry about it,” Minisa clapped her hands. “Yes, yes, I'm quite clever.”

“And the poor man seems very fond of my sister,” Aegon mused that they seemed to be dropping most of the pretenses at this point. “Nothing to worry my mother with yet, but it's something I think might be intriguing. She usually gets twitchy when her houseguests stay longer than a week, but she seems to be taking to him.”

“He wants to avoid everyone gossiping about him and Desmera Redwyne,” Minisa smiled sweetly at her brother, who scowled at her.

“Brat,” he said, before swinging the trunk in. “End that sulk, unless you want me to tell Senya about it.”

She stuck her tongue out at him.

“Where is Harry?” Ron asked.

“Rhae and her dog came with Aegon,” Minisa grumbled. “So Harry is playing with the dog and staring at my sister.”

Hermione was wondering two things. One, the more pressing question, was if it was rather dangerous for Sirius to be at the Platform. Of course, that meant asking if – or, more likely, how- Min's siblings had hid the man from view.

There was the sound of noises down the hall, and the compartment opened. “Hello,” Harry said, peering in. “Still room?”

“Of course, mate,” Ron said, helping him drag in the trunk.

The other thing Hermione was wondering was if Minisa was perhaps jealous. Harry had been a bit silly when describing Cho Chang last year, and if he was also being silly about Rhaenys, that hinted at a type- small, slighter, and with dark hair and eyes. All of which was not at all like Minisa.

Oh dear. She agreed with Aegon that it probably wasn't serious on Harry's part- Rhaenys was pretty enough, she thought, though she suspected it was more being younger than say, Mrs. Weasley, not smothering, and going out of her way to be kind to Harry. But the pretty didn't hurt. He just wasn't used to that.

Though she might need to keep an eye on Min.

“What do you think is going on this year?” Ron asked Minisa.

“What do you mean?” Minisa asked, as Ron and Harry took to babbling about what they'd heard.

  
  


~

 

“So,” Minisa said, thoughtfully, scooping up some roasted potatoes. “They are reinstating an old death tournament.”

“It does sound that way,” Neville agreed, reaching for the carrots.

“But… but... “ Ron looked at them. “It would be brilliant, winning the Cup! Think about it. You’d be famous!”

Harry looked like he desperately wanted to say something sarcastic, and Min raised her eyebrows at him.

She almost got it- she had as many older siblings as Ron, plus Aunt Dany and Uncle Vis, and aside from her Twins and Uncle Vis, most of them had really cool jobs or carried a mantle.

But she thought about what their reaction to her announcing that she’d won a competition against human schoolchildren, even if they were older than her.

That wasn’t going to happen, because she liked not being mocked for the rest of her unnatural life.

“Well,” Minisa said after a long moment. “At least it is obvious this time.”

Hermione stifled a snicker, all thoughts of House Elves forgotten. Ron looked between them.

“...I don’t get it?” Ron said, taking a bit of his dinner while thinking.

“They’re saying at least we know how somebody’s trying to kill me this year,” Harry said, rolling his eyes. “I can't compete, though, so I don't get how.” He sighed. “Nice as it would be to famous for something I can actually remember, I probably shouldn't make it that easy.” He paused. “I also don't really want to die being an idiot.”

Ginny and Min started laughing at him.

“Are Fred and George running bets this year?” Dean asked. “I have suggestions…”

  
  


~

 

Lavender and Parvati had taken to partnering with Minisa during Care of Magical Creatures, and were staring at the Blast-Ended Skrewts. A little bit because they got along better with her than with Hermione, most of the time, but mostly because Hagrid's beasties seemed to all adore Min. Even the Flobberworms.

Right now she had one of the Skrewts scuttling up her arm, taking chicken liver from her free hand somehow. Lavender thought she might be letting it suck it up through the stomach mouth.

“What's the point of them?” Malfoy asked, staring at the box in disgust.

‘Just because they’re not very pretty, it doesn’t mean they’re not useful,’  Hermione pointed out, whipping around to glare at Malfoy. “Look at Dragon's Blood.”

“It's like a cross between a swamp dragon and chupacabra,” Minisa muttered to Parvati. More loudly, she added, “you could use them for security, if they get big enough.”

That garnered a few horrified looks from her fellow students, and an intrigued one from Hagrid.

Lavender groaned- Minisa didn't think sometimes. Or she did think, but so differently that no one else could predict it.

At least she had Divination next, she told herself.

And then Ron just had to open his mouth and be a disgusting boy in from of Professor Trelawney, and get them homework for it.

Not that she minded Divination work, but getting it because Ron was awful was not what she wanted.

It didn't excuse Malfoy for being so rude about Ron's mother.

She wasn't quite sure if Malfoy being as cruel as always justified Professor Moody turning Malfoy into a ferret and bouncing up the hall, though.

Parvati clapped a hand over her mouth. “Padma will be furious she missed this,” she said gleefully, just as Professor McGonagall turned the corner.

Minisa was making a wheezing noise from behind Lavender as McGonagall realized that the ferret was a student, and transformed him back, lecturing Professor Moody about how he was not to transfigure students, he was to give them detention and speak to their head of house.

“Potions class is going to be terrible,” Lavender predicted. No one had heard anything about the results of Minisa's complaint.

  
  


~

  
  


Potions class was indeed terrible. While the students had not heard from anyone about their complaints, several people had. There had been a number of discussions between the Board of Governors and the Headmaster, and near shouting matches between Professor McGonagall and Dumbledore. Some of this was due to Snape deciding to reveal Remus Lupin's condition to Malfoy, and the resulting discussion among some well connected people, very little of which was favorable to werewolves. Besides this, after finding out that Sirius Black was innocent, she was a bit miffed that Snape tried to get the man Kissed anyway.

“It was either self-delusion or malice, Albus,” she had pointed out. “The kindest I can say is that he allowed an old grudge to override his ability to think, and that is good for no one, especially him.”

So the Headmaster and the Potions Professor had a discussion, whereupon the Headmaster pointed out that Snape had gone too far, and there was in fact a line between building his cover and just forgoing all subtlety and sense.

Which meant that Snape was in an especially vindictive mood, but was spending a great deal of effort to make certain that on paper it would seem reasonable enough. This was probably made worse by Moody, who had all but announced that whatever nasty things Malfoy Senior had done, Snape was also involved.

And so, despite Fred, George, and Lee's gushing about how cool Moody was, neither Neville or Minisa were terribly enthusiastic.

Moody seemed nice enough to the class, asking about Ron's father and complementing how Professor Lupin had taught them about creatures. But there was something a bit meanly tactless- Minisa might not have noticed, if she'd never met Uncle Viserys, who excelled in that.

She looked around at the classroom nervously as Ron spoke about the Imperius Curse. And then Moody showed it on a spider.

Her mother would say that it was wrong to use that sort of power to impress a bunch of children. She'd grown up under the shadow of King Scab, Aerys Targaryen, who had burned men for his pleasure.

Her father would say that it was only helpful if Moody honestly believed he was impressing the dangers of the spells on his students, and that it would prevent people from casting them later.

Minisa, however, caught sight of the sick look on Neville's face when Moody tried the torture spell on the spider. There was one more spider and one more spell, she thought as Hermione shrieked for Moody to stop.

What on earth had the older boys been thinking, saying this was cool?

When Hermione mentioned the Killing Curse, Minisa instinctively put her hand over Harry's, as Moody set the last spider on the desk. It tried to scuttle away, but there was a blazing flash of green, and the spider was dead, and Harry looked like he was caught in an unpleasant dream.

She didn't care what the others thought, she didn't like Professor Moody at all. Even if he had caught up with Neville after class and apparently wanted to fix what he'd done.

Harry leaned against Min a bit as they walked down towards lunch, and she gave Ron a baleful glare as he mentioned how the killing curse had worked on the spider.

“Did I tell you that Aegon's getting ready to propose?” Minisa asked, deciding to change the subject. “He's going to try to wait until Christmas, but that depends on Mum not spilling the beans. Mrs. Elia won't- that's Aegon's actual mother- but Mum doesn't know because she'll get too excited and spill the beans.”

“Desmera?” Harry asked, after the pause grew long enough Hermione opened her mouth.

“Oh, that's wonderful!” Hermione clapped her hands as they went over the trick staircase, leading Min to wonder if there was something wrong with Hermione or something wrong with her. Hermione couldn't talk to Aegon without blushing- Aegon was treating it with the same polite way of pretending nothing was happening he'd done when it had been Senya's friends. Well, Duck had always found it amusing- his best friend had laughed himself sick when he realized it was starting again, though he'd wisely waited until no one but Aegon could hear it, and mocked Aegon about being a Disney Prince, which would have amused Min greatly if she heard it.

But she was happy without seeming a bit jealous. Maybe, Min mused, it was because Aegon was kind of old. But Rhaenys was nearly thirty-four, so should that affect how Min was jealous? She got lost enough in her thoughts she ended up nearly crashing into a group of sixth years who looked ominously stressed.

And Min supposed she should start wondering about what she'd do out of Hogwarts. Dad would want her to serve as ambassador, or, more accurately, as his voice and hands among the wizards. If he stayed as uninterested in the world outside Dragonstone as he did, she should be able to get a proper job, though.

~

Ron, Harry, and Min all looked at the badges.

  
  


“Hermione,” Minisa sighed. “It says SPEW.”

  
  


“It dies not,” Hermione protested.

“It does,” Harry admitted, ducking behind Ron when Hermione whirled on him.

“We can come up with something better,” Minisa offered. “I like the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Elves.”

“Not very creative,” someone said, looking over. “There a reason for this?”

Hermione launched into the story of Dobby's punishments and what had happened to Winky at the World Cup. The student, who looked to be a Seventh Year, frowned.

“That sounds bad,” he admitted. “Do you have a plan to fix it?”

“I'm working on that,” Hermione said. “There's just so little research already done.”

“Laws?” Ron looked up. “Like we did for Buckbeak?”

Hermione lit up. “That's brilliant!”

The other student walked away as Hermione started making a list.

Harry gave Min a tired look before the raven started tapping at the window.

Min went and got it, murmuring that as long as it wasn't a white raven, everything was good.

“What's a white raven mean?” Ron asked.

“Well, mostly, they were sent when a dead winter came about,” Minisa looked up. “One for me, one for you, Harry.” She passed a letter with Sirius' handwriting on it to him. She looked at the letter.

“And what is a dead winter?” Hermione asked, eyebrows knitted together as she tucked her legs up to study her badges again.

“A dead wind is when the boundaries between here and Valyria that was are thin,” Minisa said, opening the envelope. “It's from Mum, invitation to Christmas again. Hermione, Ron, your families are invited, Mum says that she got agreement that your parents could stay at Riverrun House. And when the boundaries are thin... well, they are always a bit thinner on Dragonstone, it is why the family stays there. Um, a dead winter is when the walls are thinner long term, usually with it being worst near Winterfell House- things go a bit mad then. I think the stuff with Marie Antoinette was a dead winter?”

“Oh,” Hermione said. And then, because she needed to know and was probably going to have nightmares anyway, “and what else are the white ravens for?”

“Um, well, in theory...” Min looked up with an innocent look. “They would be sent if the barrier fell entirely.”

“What happens then?” Ron asked, pulling out his homework.

“Er...” Minisa frowned. “The Valyrians once shared most of their power among a lot of families and were considered almost godlike.”

“And now there is just your family,” Harry guessed.

Minisa pulled a face. “There is one family, but they don't really have power now, so I don't know if they would get any. Then there are the dragonseed families- the Martells, Brienne Tarth, the Baratheons. But they wouldn't get too much, since they aren't... none of them can hold a mantle.”

“Is it likely to fall anytime soon?” Hermione asked, looking faintly ill.

“Noooo...” Minisa frowned. “No one has figured it out in centuries, so it would take blind luck to stumble upon it.”

Somehow, that wasn't terribly comforting.

~

Neville watched the sky with everyone else, taking a flask of hot chocolate from Minisa's sequined bag, which McGonagall either hadn't noticed or had just given up on. She gave him a tired grin.

“We all have homework,” she muttered. “If we are planning a reception, we should have planned around homework.”

“Still have OWLs next year,” Neville pointed out. He felt a bit sorry for the fifth and seventh years, who had their big exams on top of the tournament.

Minisa nodded and gave the area a look that made Neville wonder if she was going to stride off and back into the Tower to finish an essay. He didn't think she would, normally, but she looked stressed. Also, she had walked out of Moody's lesson on the Imperious Curse, refusing to let the professor try it on her.

Which was probably a good thing for Professor Moody. Minisa was not the person to cast mind magic on, not if you didn't want to think you were a ball of yarn for a week.

Then the carriage came careening across the sky and made him jump on a Slytherin fifth-year's foot.

Minisa raised her eyebrows at the carriage and Madam Maxine.

“Huh,” she whispered. “I thought Hagrid was the only person taller than the Mountain.”

He ignored that- he really didn't need to know most of Minisa's little asides. She stuck close to him and they got through the ship rising in the water, and Karkaroff introducing Viktor Krum.

“Am I supposed to be impressed?”Minisa asked quietly. “Or is this a thing where if you didn't go to the World Cup you don't get it?”

“He's really good,” Harry muttered.

“And he's still in school?” Dean asked. Minisa shrugged and Neville shook his head. He didn't think it was usual- even Charlie Weasley was asked after he graduated, he thought.

“Do you have a quill?” Ron asked.

“They're all up in the dorm,” Harry said, seeming very flat. Considering his reaction to Colin Creevey, Neville guessed Harry's general feelings about autographs weren't very high.

“I have one of my bright pink pens,” Min added, smirking a bit. Harry ducked his head.

Hermione made a face at the Beauxbatons students who were shivering, asking if they had thought to bring cloaks.

“It's chilly,” Minisa shrugged. “They'll probably do warming charms soon.”

The Durmstrang students had been shuffled to Slytherin, and looked a great deal friendlier than the Slytherins, looking at the enchanted ceiling with interest.

They sat down to eat, and a pretty blonde girl asked for one of the dishes. Minisa flicked Neville's wrist before he could do anything embarrassing.

“That's a Veela,” Ron asserted. Neville was pretty sure he was right. Hermione didn't.

“They don't make them like that at Hogwarts,” Ron protested.

“Well, they don't actually make people...” Minisa started, before Harry absently broke in.

“They make them OK at Hogwarts.”

Minisa sighed, and Neville looked between her and Harry curiously. Harry was giving Minisa a look that was probably concern.

Neville turned to look at the Ministry officials who came into the Great Hall and decided not to ask. If Min got really upset, he'd listen, but right now... he was pretty sure neither of them wanted to talk about it.

~

Min looked at her friends, then at the loose leaf sheet of paper. There was a raven waiting- there was always a raven waiting, when you needed one.

 _Dear Rhae_ , she started.

_Please sit on Sirius, Harry doesn't need to worry about him getting caught. A lot of things have happened. Well, one big thing that means a lot of little things._

_So the Triwizard Tournament is going on, which I have already told you about. Someone managed to trick a very old magical artifact into forgetting that there are only three schools involved, and made Harry the only entrant into that fourth school. So now Harry is the fourth person competing in a tournament that kills people._

_And Harry didn't do it! Ron thinks that I might have helped him, but I wouldn't. Why would I make it easier for someone to kill my friend? But now Ron is furious at both of us. And all of Gryffindor Tower thinks Harry managed a big trick, but people die in that tournament._

_So. Things are probably going to get very bad, and I may accidentally turn Ron into a tree. Please tell Mrs. Weasley I'm sorry. (I refuse to be within a hundred miles of her when she finds out.)_

_Hermione is very sensible and believes Harry, because Harry is a terrible liar when he's surprised. Or at all, really. And he was shocked when he found out._

_Much love,_

_Minisa Alysanne Targaryen_

~

Minisa was going faintly mad waiting for Rhaenys' letter. The school seemed to be divided into Gryffindors and everyone else- though no one besides Hermione, Neville, and Minisa actually seemed to believe Harry.

Well, Hagrid did. Ish. He basically said that everything happened to Harry. But the Hufflepuffs were all furious, and the Slytherins... well, Malfoy and anyone who was connected to him or the Slytherin Quidditch Team or wanted to suck up to Snape were all being horrible to Harry.

And it was getting to him. So Min snatched the letter from the raven, opening the bronze envelope.

  
  


_Little Fish,_

_That poor boy has the worst luck, hasn't he?_

(Harry looked faintly embarrassed at being called 'that poor boy', and Minisa hid a grin.)

_I have spoken with my friend on the matter, and after much debate-_

(“That means that there was shouting,” Minisa predicted, and Hermione nodded.)

_-after much debate, we have established a compromise. It will perhaps not endear me to his friends and colleagues, but it gives us both more leverage with the greater problem than we would otherwise have. He is doing this with as much understanding of the situation as I can give him, and I am keeping the terms as generous as I can.._

“What does that mean?” Harry asked, eyes narrowed. There was a second piece of paper, one that had what looked like Sirius' handwriting on it.

“She didn't...” Minisa breathed. “She made a bargain.”

“Like with fairy tales?” Hermione asked suspiciously.

Minisa nodded. “Close enough- he's swearing an oath to her, somehow, and she then gets to meddle freely when it comes to helping him. Without it she'd have to answer to Dad or the Great Houses, but she can also use a lot more power than we're supposed to.”

“So what does that mean for Sirius?” Harry asked. Minisa shook her head and handed him Sirius' letter.

“I don't know, we'll ask at Christmas,” Minisa tried. Harry didn't look pleased, but he didn't protest, just put the letter in his bag. They had to go to Potions, anyway.

They managed to get almost in the door when Malfoy confronted them with the “Potter Stinks” badges.

Minisa's eyes seemed to glow, for a moment, and they started smelling something rotten.

“Whoops,” she muttered. Their robes were starting to molder away where the badges were pinned, and a horrible, raging part of Minisa wondered how far the rot would spread.

Which is, of course, when Malfoy and Harry decided to engage in an impromptu duel. Which was probably the worst possible place to have it- if it was, say, Senya with a bit of magic and her knife, yes, that would be perfect, the tight corridor and crowds could be used. For a wizard's duel... it really wasn't surprising that their curses hit other people.

Hermione was hit, and Neville steadied her as her hands covered her mouth. Min stood between her and the others, knowing she was broad enough in the shoulders to hide her friend.

“I'll take her to the hospital wing,” Min said, not saying a word of what had happened.

“Potter attacked me, and he hit Goyle, look-” and Goyle was hit, a nasty looking series of boils on his face, but Hermione let out a whimper and Minisa turned her back on the others as she looped an arm around Hermione's waist. Ribs.

“I see no evidence of injury to Miss Granger,” Snape said.

“And I,” Minisa said, trying to sound like Aunt Cat or Dad at his most Targaryen, “see no improvement in your basic decency.” Focus on anything but the rage, Jon had taught her. Trying to sound mature should help.

Which was made a lot easier when Harry and Ron started shouting at Snape, nasty words and Harry was annoyed enough his glasses were slipping down his face. Lavender took Hermione's bag, tilting a bit from the weight.

“We'll get her homework,” Parvati said.

  
  


~

“Alyssa sent me,” Aegon told him, wearing a muggle suit that would probably make the girls ignore everything else. “She said you'd want an adult.” He'd been waiting outside the classroom Colin had brought him to, looking at a stack of papers.

Harry looked at the open door, which seemed to have a few adults inside already.

“A different adult,” Aegon added, dark eyes crinkling with laughter. He'd apparently taken to growing out a beard, which was darker than his oddly metallic hair. “I'm going to be your... not a solicitor, though I suspect you could do with one, Alyssa didn't think to tell me until this morning and we don't have time to go over a reasonable contract. More of an advocate. You are the only minor participating- which means Lysa is fuming, please expect her and Mrs. Weasley to go mad over the Holidays.”

Harry shrugged. “I'm not too happy, either.”

“I can only imagine,” Aegon said. “You got the letter from Stargazer?”

Harry nodded. “I didn't read... Padfoot's, yet. But what did Rhaenys do?”

Aegon sighed. “It is a long story, but my sister put the dragon amidst the sheep now. Dad's being... peculiar about it. Probably because Rhae's his firstborn, but he didn't protest her going to Stargazer, so he can't say much...”

Someone headed towards the door, and Aegon put on a sharp smile, tucking the papers... somewhere.

“Alyssa gave me the warning, but Rhaenys asked the favor from me, which gives us a lot of leeway,” Aegon whispered. “Just trust me.”

“I do,” Harry said, whispering back. He'd never had a reason not to trust the Targaryens. Well, the younger ones.

“And who are you?” a magenta-robed witch asked Aegon curiously. She had been making a beeline for Harry, who had stepped behind the older man.

“Mr. Potter is a friend of the family, and I handle tricky matters for a number of clients,” Aegon said, giving her a dismissive look. “As he is the only minor- and the only one without family or dedicated support from people familiar with magic- I agreed to step in.”

“That isn't a proper introduction,” the witch said. She was scowling slightly, looking at him over her glittering glasses.

“Ah, I see,” Aegon ignored the rest of it, escorting Harry to where the other Champions were.

“Still not an answer,” the witch protested.

“I do not know what your position here is,” Aegon asked, tilting his head. With Min, that expression usually meant that things were about to go sideways.

“Rita Skeeter, Daily Prophet,” she said. “The people deserve to know...”

“People so rarely get what they deserve,” Aegon was playing with her. “That would be the Headmaster, I believe?”

“Dumbledore!” Rita smiled edgily, a poison green quill that had been poking from her handbag vanishing. Aegon twitched a bit, hiding a smile.

“Rita,” the Headmaster looked at Rita Skeeter, Harry, and Aegon, clearly figuring out something. “And Aegon Targaryen, if I am not wrong?”

“You are not,” Aegon said, not showing a hint of annoyance for having his game ruined. “I was asked by my sister to look into Harry's interests. This competition, the statements given about how it could be attempted murder... it is very concerning for her.”

Well, Harry thought, the first bit could be about Alyssa, Rhae, or Min. The last bit clearly knocked Alyssa out of the running. He was pretty sure that she would have been happier if Min never left the Island.

“And Rita here is undoubtedly interested in Mr. Potter as well,” Dumbledore said, looking greatly entertained. “I believe Minisa is in the Hospital Wing?”

Aegon frowned at that, shooting Harry a look. “Malfoy hit Hermione with a jinx, and Min... sort of ignored Professor Snape to take her to the Hospital Wing,” Harry said, very carefully. He'd just gotten detention with Snape already. “He doesn't like...” he paused. “He doesn't...” There was no good way to put it.

“I see,” Aegon said, very quietly. “Miss Granger is a clever child, and a very idealistic one. I _do_ hope this isn't systematic, Headmaster? It would be a shame to have clever children ground down out of spite.”

The Headmaster sighed. “I will speak to Professor Snape about the incident.”

“Wonderful,” Aegon said, “now, I believe there were some formalities to be getting on with?” Harry, if he had met Oberyn Martell, would have started backing away at Aegon's dry tone.

He was, Elia Martell liked to say, quite a bit like both her brothers. Oberyn's barbed tongue with Doran's long fuse, a combination that had driven Rhaegar to distraction quite a bit.

Something in his expression had everyone scuttling around.

“An interview...” Rita suggested, hands twitching towards her purse.

“No,” Aegon said, firmly. “And any supposed quotes will be taken quite seriously.” He started humming a rather melancholy tune, one that no one else seemed to recognize, taking a seat on a desk and looking about, long legs crossed and an air of being completely unbothered.

Aegon's presence was a remarkably useful way to make everything go quickly- many people were giving him wary looks and quite a bit of space. Since the classroom was not all that large, it lead to a great deal of cramming.

Finally, Dumbledore called for dinner.

“Photographs, Dumbledore, there should be photographs...” Ludo Bagman said.

“I see no release forms, and I am sure the competitors are hungry,” Aegon said, sliding off the desk. “Come along, then, I might want directions.”

“He didn't say he _needed_ directions,” Cedric said quietly.

“I,” Rita said, rallying a final time, “have questions, Mr... Targaryen?” She reached inside her pocketbook, felt something, and slowly turned the color of old porridge.

Aegon smiled, and it seemed as if all of the shadows in the room took it as a cue to be as dramatic as possible. “I'm sure you do.”

~

Parvati looked over Hermione's shoulder when she heard the other girl let out a small, angry screech.

“So...” Minisa, who was reading Katie's copy, had turned redder than her hair, and her eyes were...

Parvati looked away and back at the article.

“Skeeter's always a bit like that,” one of the older students said. “You should hear what my mum says about her.”

“What, insinuating that Harry's going to fall apart if someone looks at him sideways?” Angelina snorted. “That sounds likely.”

Seamus shook his head. “Min's not evil.”

“Hermione and Min in a love triangle?” Lavender laughed, patting Minisa's shoulder. “They're too different, they'd never like the same boy.”

“Malfoy will be awful about this,” Neville predicted.

“Well,” Minisa said, sharply, “we'll deal with that when it happens.”

Parvati, reading the article, still had questions. Like, how on earth did Min's brother get into Hogwarts? Why was Rita Skeeter seemingly terrified of the man? She'd liked like Aegon, when he came in with Harry to check on his sister and sneak some dinner- he had been so polite, and his dark eyes were dreamy in a way that Parvati had not realized was a real thing. He'd been _charming_. And _cute_.

Min, when Parvati told her this, had tried to drown herself in her eggs and told Parvati that Aegon was far too old, and he had a girlfriend besides.

“Doesn't mean we can't look,” one of the older girls had pointed out.”Granger, Targaryen, let us know if people start hassling you too much.”

Ron snorted, and Ginny flicked his ear. “We'll back you up,” Ginny agreed.

~

Harry was not quite sure what was going on, anymore. Malfoy and his friends were being awful, but as Minisa had pointed out, most of the worst of them were either friendly with Malfoy or part of the Slytherin Quidditch team.

Ron still believed that Harry had put his name in the Cup, which was deeply irritating and...

“You miss Ron,” Hermione had said, when trying to get them to apologize. She was clearly feeling torn, and while Harry did like being friends with Hermione, he did, not having Ron around did change their priorities.

“He should get over himself,” Minisa said, looking at Hermione crossly. She was firmly of the opinion that while Harry was being a bit prideful, Ron should have known that Harry wouldn't actually put his name in all by himself. “But I'm pretty sure he'll forgive you after the First Task. What with it being a death tournament and all.”

“Thanks, Min,” Harry grumbled. Viktor Krum was in the library again, and Hermione sighed when she noticed.

“He's always here, and in about ten minutes there is going to be a gaggle of people making noise and cooing over him,” she grumbled.

Minisa, Harry noticed, had looked at Krum, looked at Hermione, and muttered something about her cousin Arya.

They'd both dragged him to Hogsmeade the next day, trying to get him to cheer up. Oddly enough, having to hide under the Invisibility Cloak to duck Rita Skeeter was not terribly relaxing.

Hagrid telling him to go to his hut around midnight, under the Cloak, was also not relaxing. Sirius' letter had mentioned setting up a door that night, to talk, and this would make it very difficult for Harry to make both appointments.

But, seeing an excited Hagrid with comb teeth snarled in his hair,trying to speak French to Madam Maxime, Harry wasn't sure he minded.

If he missed talking to Sirius, he would mind, of course. He'd liked getting to stay at Stargazer with Sirius and Rhaenys, getting to know his godfather. Getting to see him again would be amazing...

  
  


~

  
  


“Dragons,” Sirius repeated, grey eyes wide.

Rhaenys had made a door for Harry directly to her gardens, left them with a mug of orange tea each, and gone off to work on a report she was reviewing. She'd promised to open the door again when Harry needed to go back.

Sirius was feeling the sharp and sudden urge to let that be in about ten years.

Harry was studying his godfather as well- Sirius looked better than he had at the Shrieking Shack, better even then when he'd visited over the summer. He looked healthy, with his dark hair trimmed short and a short beard that probably made for plausible deniability, and a slowly fading summer tan. Muggle clothes replaced his tattered robes, and he probably could walk down Diagon without being recognized. What stuck out the most was his eyes- they still looked haunted, but there was a steadiness in him that hadn't been there that night.

“Hagrid showed me them tonight,” Harry said. “And...” He took a sip of his tea.

“And what?” Sirius asked, patiently.

Harry found himself telling Sirius everything, about how no one believed that he hadn't entered his name in- he made a pause and said that Min and Neville seemed like they believed him at once, and Hermione had come round- about Rita Skeeter's article, about how Ron seemed to hate him.

“That... makes the dragons seem less important,” Sirius said, finally. “Aegon is supposed to be dealing with Skeeter- he's got this terrifying woman named Cersei Lannister helping him, mean as anything but apparently she's thorough. Everything else...” he sighed. “I think time might help with your Ron problem. It certainly helped when your father and I fought.”

Harry wanted to ask, but Sirius shook his head and continued. “But there are a few problems you couldn't know- though it might be a good idea to ask McGonagall for help. Karakoff's a Death Eater, you see, one who was in Azkaban.” He tapped the thick wood of the table, frowning. “He made a deal with the Ministry, and they let him go. Didn't make him too many friends, as you can imagine.”

“But how did he end up...” Harry shook his head. “Is that why Dumbledore wanted Professor Moody?”

“Probably, probably,” Sirius shook his head. “Is he really as far gone as Molly says? He was more than a bit paranoid when I knew him, but brilliant. One of the people you knew you could trust at your back, very principled.”

Harry wondered about that- the Unforgivables he'd shown the class... Min had been uneasy for a reason. “A lot of the students think he's interesting...” he tried.

Sirius gave him a considering look. “So he is. But reading between the lines of the Daily Prophet- and I know, I know, Skeeter is rubbish and vindictive- I wouldn't be surprised if there was a real attack at his place right before he started at Hogwarts.”

“You think someone didn't want him to come,” Harry said, looking at the open door to the staircase. The kitchen had massive windows made up of tiny panes of glass, sending moonlight over Rhaenys' tired face.

“I wouldn't be surprised,” Rhaenys added, shuffling over. “And I probably should not be as enraged as I am this late at night.”

“Bad case?” Sirius asked, hooking the chair next to him.

“Bad work on the case,” she said, pinching her nose as she slid into the chair and leaned on Sirius' shoulder. “Suicides, oddly enough, should have the method of suicide near the corpse, at least if a rope is involved. The way it reads, I wonder if some of it might be up your side of the street.” She shook her head. “Like the fact that bones alone after six months in a cave is peculiar.”

“I can look at it,” Sirius promised. “It would fit with what I was about to say- that the Death Eaters have been more busy in the past few months than they have since... a little after I went away?”

Rhaenys frowned a bit at that. “But _why_?” She looked at Harry. “That seeing you had, the one about Voldemort and the old house, could that be tied in, I wonder? If he's somehow anchored into a sort of physical form?”

Sirius thought about it. “Probably, I'd think. But the timing doesn't quite add up- I wonder if your little adventure with Quirrell started stirring things up, and Malfoy's game with the diary didn't make it worse. Then my escape...”

“Stirring the pot,” Rhaenys mused. “All those disturbing little facts being whispered about in the shadows, until things start to give.” She looked at Harry, great dark eyes troubled. “Do be careful.”

Sirius nodded. “There are other things, too- Bertha Jorkins, that Ministry witch who went missing... she went to Albania, right where Voldemort was last rumored to be, and if your dream was right, Peter must have gone there to find him. I remember Bertha- she was a bit ahead of us in school, very good at gossip but not very bright. It would be a dangerous combination, especially if she was working on the Tournament as well as the Cup.”

“You think she ran into Voldemort?” Harry frowned. “But that doesn't seem very likely...”

“Noisy English tourist going through, maybe talking about the big sport competition she's doing?” Rhaenys looked at him. “I'm not certain, but it _is_ possible that they might have grabbed her.”

Sirius gave her a grateful look. “True- I think we're probably missing some information, but with what we have...”

“All they have to do is wait for the dragons to cook me,” Harry grumbled.

“They can be dealt with- I wouldn't try to assault them, you'd need at least half a dozen trained wizards for that...” Sirius mused. “Their eyes are good weak points.”

“They'll probably be fairly contained as well, unless they want them to eat the spectators,” Rhaenys added, sounding half-asleep.

They talked about it a while more, until Harry couldn't keep his eyes open and Rhaenys woke long enough to open the door back.

  
  


~

Hermione winced as she took to the stands. Ron was there, sandwiched next to Fred and George.

“Is Harry alright?” Ginny asked. She was sitting next to Senya and Jon Targaryen, who had brought snacks and his very large white dog, who was currently being petted by a cooing Lavender.

Minisa shook her head. “I think so, but...” She was shaking a bit, looking at the dragons.

“It was a good thing to do, to warn the other boy about the dragons,” Jon said in an undertone, looking at Minisa. “And you said he had a plan?”

“Sort of,” Hermione hedged. Someone else came up the steps into the stands, and it took a moment for the tiny figure with the great big dog to register as Rhaenys Targaryen and Sirius Black.

“Hello,” she said, settling on the other side of Senya. “How is everyone?”

Ron was looking a little sick when he saw Cedric face the dragons.

“He's such a good dog, they both are,” Lavender cooed as Cedric transfigured a rock into a dog, hiding her face in Ghost's fur. Hermione couldn't blame her for not wanting to look.

“I live alone out in a fairly isolated spot,” Rhaenys sighed, but her hand was buried in Sirius' fur. “It was either a guard dog or one of my relatives. The dog is less work.”

Senya snickered. “Mum still drags you to dinner twice a week.”

“That she does,” Rhaenys said, shoulders hunched.

“Harry's going to face that?” Ron said, hoarsely. He was holding the bench so tightly that his fingers were bloodless, and you could see his freckles standing out.

“One of them,” Minisa said. Katie Bell put a hand on her shoulder.

“He'll be fine,” Katie reassured her.

“Yeah, look at all the other times he didn't die,” George said, nodding his head.

“Not funny, George,” Ginny hissed. Sirius let out a little whine, and Jon scritched his ears reflexively.

When Harry summoned his broom, everyone went quiet for a long moment.

“What was his plan, again?” Dean asked. Seamus elbowed him just before the broom went sailing in.

“Technically legal,” Senya muttered, looking pleased. “Very clever, too, he'll have more flexibility.”

“Pity I can't do running commentary,” Lee Jordan said, “because there are a lot of things I want to say to everyone, and if McGonagall isn't here, she can't stop me.”

“Judging by her face when she got Harry,” Minisa said, “I don't know if she'd want to. Oh, he's got the egg!”

They all let out a cheer, and Sirius let out a series of happy barks.

  
  


~

  
  


The problem of Rita Skeeter was perhaps not stopped entirely. “It would take a different tool than Cersei to do that, I suspect,” was Aegon's take on it. But there wasn't another article about Harry after the First Task, which was good enough for him. Hagrid agreeing to do an interview about the Blast Ended Skrewts was a bit nerve wracking, but nothing really seemed to come of it, so he didn't worry too much.

Hermione, having found the kitchens, was hopeful that Dobby and the house elf that Mr Crouch had freed, Winky, were working there might inspire the other house elves to be freed.

“Not if they see how Winky keeps crying,” Ron predicted.

“Preventing them from being hurt isn't a bad thing,” Minisa said, biting her lip. “Unless they are Mogget-like, and releasing them means that they turn into creepy murder monsters.”

“Could that really happen, though?” Ron asked, looking unconvinced.

“...Probably not?” Minisa frowned. “If they turn into creepy horror movie monsters who steal children, though, I'm going home.”

“That seems fair,” Fred, who had come over to borrow a quill, was looking at Hermione curiously. “She has a plan?”

“Sheer force of rage?” Minisa frowned. “Maybe we should get her one of those dragons, that might help.”

“How?” Harry looked up from his Transfiguration essay.

“It's traditional,” Minisa sniffed. “I wouldn't expect a human to understand.” She grinned a bit at the end, seeming to warm up the room.

Harry rolled his eyes. “Seems a bit unpredictable for Hermione, though.”

  
  


~

  
  


The news of the Yule Ball seemed to send the school into a dizzying whirl of speculation and gossip.

“There are a lot of girls hoping you will ask them,” Minisa told Harry brightly. “Everyone knows Cedric is asking Cho...”

“They do?” Harry frowned. “I didn't know...”

“I listen to more people than you do,” she said, turning her nose up. It seemed a bit false, now. “

“I do know that girls want to go with me,” Harry pointed out. Then he remembered the third-year Hufflepuff who had startled him with her question, and didn't really want to discuss it. “Besides, I can't dance.”

“You don't know how,” Minisa nodded. “I can... I did learn, for Danelle's wedding? I can show people- maybe I can talk Jon into helping us.”

“That could work,” Harry said, noticing that there were a few heads turned towards Minisa. “Did anyone ask you yet?”

She shook her head, hair flying. She'd left it out of its usual braid, and it fell nearly to her waist in light red curls that seemed to catch the light. It was quite pretty, actually. “I don't know if anyone actually will,” she shrugged, trying to make light of it. “Apparently six-foot-tall redheads who can't fit into a size four aren't very popular.” She gave a slightly bitter smile.

Harry, who personally thought there was nothing wrong with how Minisa looked, frowned. “Do you want to go with me, then? Saves me from someone dragging me off until I agree, but we'll have to open the ball...”

Minisa looked, he thought, a bit like Christmas had come early. “That would be wonderful!”

Hermione groaned.

  
  


~

  
  


Margaery had helped Minisa pick out her dress robes- she had gone with Jon to take Min to Diagon, mocking him endlessly and making him carry everything.

They were good dress robes, she thought. She couldn't wear Targaryen red- it clashed horribly with her hair and the faint dusting of freckles she never could get to go away. And if she wore black, it would probably give her evil dragon vibes. So Margaery found some shimmery fabric in Tully blue, and she and cousin Sansa had made something similar to the dress robes in Madam Malkins.

She'd worn her hair down, and helped Lavender braid hers in something like the twist that cousin Sansa wore when she had to dress up. Parvati had already gone ahead- she was going with Dean, and had been very pleased when she heard him call her one of the prettiest girls in their year.

Hermione looked a little lost. She had a bottle of hair product in her hands and a very pretty, floaty robe in periwinkle at the foot of her bed.

“Do you want us to help?” Minisa asked, tilting her head.

“Sort of?” Hermione was blushing. “It's silly, I know, but...”

Lavender looked at the bottle. “We'll figure it out. Besides,” she added, without malice, “we're doing it too.”

Hermione gave a worried smile. “I don't have time to do it every day...”

“But you should feel special tonight,” Minisa bounced. “Even if you refuse to tell us who you are going with.”

  
  


~

  
  


Harry looked at Minisa with wide eyes, and Lavender elbowed her and giggled. Minisa rolled her eyes, but she was grinning.

“You clean up nicely,” Minisa said, looking at Harry's bottle green robes.

“You too,” Harry said, looking like he wanted the floor to swallow him. “Not that you don't normally look nice, but...”

“Extra spiffy tonight, I know,” Minisa gave a little twirl, letting her skirts lift and flutter. “Did you see Hermione? She left after she finished getting dressed...” She'd refused to tell them who she was going with, too.

Harry shook his head. “No, I didn't. Do you know...”

“We'll find out,” Minisa said. “And we'll find out if you managed to remember any of the lessons I taught you.”

“Box step, step one, conjure a box,” Harry said, perfectly deadpan as they left the tower.

Seeing everyone dressed up was a little odd- Ron had been careless when removing the lace cuffs from his robe, and Sansa would have been in vapors at destroying antique lace, but Parvati's bright pink dress was visible, shimmering silver patterns and bangles twinkling in the light.

She looked over the crowd. “She's wearing a very pretty periwinkle dress... oh, who is that with Fleur? He looks familiar?”

“Roger Davies,” Harry said. “He's the Ravenclaw captain.”

“Oh, him.” Minisa nodded. “He's the one that Fred nearly sent into the stands last year.”

“That would be him,” Harry agreed. “I wonder why Fleur asked him?”

“Maybe he seemed more sensible when he asked,” Minisa whispered. “Is that Hermione?” There was a note of wicked amusement in her voice, and Harry followed the stares of Krum's angry fan club to see Hermione, beaming but clearly nervous, on Krum's arm.

“...How?” Harry asked.

“I wonder if he's shy?” Minisa frowned. “It would explain why he kept sitting near Hermione in the library. Plus I don't think his English is terribly fluent. Though I don't speak Bulgarian...”

“You just speak English, Spanish, that dragon language... why didn't I summon you for the First Task?” Harry teased.

“Because I'd flatten you,” Minisa said serenely, noticing Pansy Parkinson and wincing. She touched the necklace that Mum had given her, when she'd let her know the dress was for the Yule Ball. It had been Grandmother Rhaella's, once upon a time, and was made of a collar of amethysts that made her eyes almost Targaryen purple. “You ready?”

  
  


~

  
  


Dancing with Min wasn't that bad- she joked a lot, in a quiet voice for her, and didn't mind him stepping on her feet. She was taller than him, true, but it was still Min, who he was used to being next to.

And she wasn't quite as much taller than him, anymore.

“Oh, Karkaroff does not seem happy to see Hermione with Krum,” Minisa bit her lip. “But she seems happy.”

“She does,” Harry said. “I don't think I've heard him speak much.” He shot a narrow-eyed Ron a look- he hopefully wouldn't say anything, which he actually didn't until after the dinner.

“We should probably follow them,” Min said, tilting her head. “Or else Hermione will probably snap and try to murder him.”

“Probably,” Harry agreed. He had been enjoying himself, more than he expected.

Ron, as it turned out, was convinced that the only reason Krum had asked Hermione to the Ball was to get information on Harry for the Tournament. He had taken Hermione outside, and under the dancing lights, she seemed hurt.

Seeing Minisa make a fist and knowing that she actually had been taught how to throw a punch, Harry intervened. “I think Krum asked Hermione because... y'know, he wanted to?”

“He seemed really happy when he was telling her about his school,” Minisa said, and the snow around her was seeming to fall in odd, spiky patterns, building up to spires. “Just because you can't figure out why you might want to be nice to girls doesn't mean everyone else feels the same way, you twit.”

“Shh,” Harry said, half-hearing something.

It was Snape and Karkaroff, who did not seem to notice them- Harry half thought he could smell cherries and salt-water, and frowned at Min, who was holding a hand up and concentrating.

“It's been getting clearer and clearer for months, I am becoming seriously concerned...”

“Flee then,” Snape said, “I will not.”

Harry deeply wished he would. So, judging by their expressions, did his friends.

They slowly walked away, aware that Min's paper-thin illusion was all that kept them from notice.

  
  


~

  
  


Minisa looked at the bloody scarlet and gold envelope, and sighed, grabbing a clean butter knife. “ _Lannisters_ ,” she muttered.

The main letter was snippy and from Cersei Lannister, who refused to use her married name and was Minisa couldn't really blame her, not with that husband.

“Rita Skeeter won't be a problem anymore,” she said, reading it twice to be sure. Not that Cersei was terribly fond of word games, but she knew some secrecy was needed.

There were a few speculative looks, and someone cheered.

Minisa grinned.

  
  


~

Hermione, confronted with not finding a charm or spell that could help Harry survive at the bottom of the lake for an hour, decided that she had to be brave. She was a Gryffindor, after all.

“Minisa,” she said, looking at her friend and trying not to think of Cthulhu, “do you have any... tricks you could use?”

Minisa looked up from her book and blinked. “I have a few tricks, you need to be more...”

“Dragonstone tricks,” Hermione said, for lack of anything better.

Harry looked hopefully at Min. “Do you?”

“...Reversible ones?” she asked, raising her eyebrows. “Cause I can probably turn you into some kind of fish, but I might need Aegon to turn you back.”

“Is he going to be at the Second Task?” Hermione asked. “Because I really don't have anything else.”

“Merrow? That could work...” Minisa paused. “Or... yeah, there are humans around, that might drive a few people mad.”

“We'll try it if we can't think of anything by closer to the task,” Ron said, after a long moment.

~

  
  


“Where's Minisa?” Aegon asked, looking about. “Or Hermione, for that matter?”

Ron frowned. “They went with McGonagall for something last night. I don't know if... Lavender, Parvati, did you see them last night?”

Lavender looked up from petting Padfoot's ears. “No, we didn't. I was thinking...” She looked guiltily at Aegon.

“That she came to Dragonstone to look for something?” Aegon shook his head. “Rhaenys? Did they go to Stargazer?”

Rhaenys, who was bundled up to the point you could barely see her eyes, made a small unhappy sound as she shook her head, a flyaway curl coming out of the knitwear. It was madly colored enough that it clearly had to come from Lysa. “Why are they going into a lake in February? In northern Scotland?”

“Dornish Summer Child,” Jon teased. He was wearing a light oxford shirt and slacks, and ignoring the fact that it was freezing.

“I was the only one born in a proper winter, remember,” Rhaenys pointed out. Padfoot was currently curled up next to her under a blanket, giving them all baleful looks. He had gotten Harry's letter about Snape being on his second chance, and Minisa and Hermione's suspicions that Crouch was faking his illness.

Sirius, after quite a bit of swearing, had sent back a suggestion that Crouch's own political career had taken a hit before, and he might have realized what a disaster the Tournament could end up being and was trying to find an exit.

The competitors were lined up, and there was a slight commotion as Dean and Seamus held up a charmed sign for Harry.

“Am I going to want to look up?” Rhaenys muttered at Jon. He looked up and laughed.

“It's not brighter than your hat,” he teased.

“I should never have told Lysa I liked turquoise, I know that,” she said, plaintively. “But the lime green gloves...”

“And the red scarf,” Jon pointed out, watching as one of the competitors turned his head into that of a shark. “Oh, that's interesting.”

“Boys,” Rhaenys muttered. “And it isn't mine- I swiped it off of...”

“Your boyfriend?” Aegon teased.

“Why is it,” Rhaenys sighed, frowning as she watched Harry wade into the water, pausing as if in pain, “that people who get engaged need to assume everyone else needs to get laid?”

Padfoot put his head on her knee, and Jon wisely didn't laugh. He didn't want to get attention. Aegon and Rhaenys' mum, for all that she was a lot more self-contained than Lysa- or his mother, for that matter- was very clearly excited that Rhaenys had finally noticed someone for more than a week or two before scurrying back to Stargazer. Or discussing her work in too much detail- Jon was fine with it, but a lot of people didn't like talking about soap or bog mummies.

There was something unhappy and edgy in the conversation, everyone looking around for Min or Hermione.

“You don't think the what was an actual person?” Parvati asked, darting about. “I can't see them missing this.”

Jon swore, loudly and viciously, and Rhaenys stepped on his foot before he mentioned ripping out throats. Aegon nodded at her.

“If they did, I will be very unhappy,” he promised, looking dangerous enough that a seventh-year boy and someone in red robes edged away.

“Good,” one of the Twins said.

“Mum will help,” Ginny pointed out.

Rhaenys was silently saying every prayer she knew when one of the boys came up, with a dark haired girl she could barely make out, but she had blue trim to her robes.

“Cho Chang,” a girl said, “she's the Ravenclaw seeker, and she went with Cedric to the Yule Ball.”

“Dumbledore wouldn't let them drown, though,” Ron said. Aegon's skeptical expression made him turn red.

“Someone is trying to kill Harry, and most of those little...” he said something that made Rhaenys roll her eyes, “oh, hush, Kit, you've said worse. What was it about crocodiles having more moral fiber?”

“True, true,” she smiled. “I think I may have actually said krokodil, though. One is a very interesting reptile, the other is a drug that rots your body off in chunks.” She wrinkled her nose. “I was a bit exhausted.”

“Either way, they don't seem to care about innocent bystanders,” Aegon said, without commenting on that. “And considering the fact that the Goblet's protections were supposed to be foolproof, and yet he didn't think of making sure that no one could drop of someone else's name in it... I have doubts.”

Jon frowned. “Min might not react the same to the spell,” he added, very quietly. Ginny turned white, freckles standing out. Someone dug out a pair of binoculars.

“Got it at the cup,” he said, offering it.

Jon took them. “Thanks.”

“That's Hermione,” Jon said, as someone else came out. “It looks like half the lake is in her hair. That's going to be fun in a moment.”

“There's Madam Pomfrey,” the girl who identified Cho Chang said. “I'm Katie Bell, by the way.”

“Jon Stark,” Jon nodded at her. “She's the nurse, right?”

“Yeah,” she said, then looked at the lake again, “Isn't that Fleur?”

A very distraught Fleur Delacour had in fact been dragged from the water, screaming.

“She's bleeding,” Jon said, standing up. “I'm going down there.”

“Aegon, go with him,” Rhaenys said, digging a gloved hand under Padfoot's blanket. The hound was making to stand, and she soothed him. “It'll be fine. Aegon, you can yank them out as needed, right?”

He paused. “Yeah, I can. I learned the trick from Uncle.”

“Good, if they aren't up by the time you get to the lake, do that, then take them to Tyene or Mrs. Stark. One of them'll know what to do.” She was looking very grey, from what they could see. “I'll talk to our father, when this is over.” She sighed. “I just need to figure out what to say.”

Jon passed the binoculars back to the boy and stalked off, Aegon following close behind. He was a bit taller, making it easier to keep up without seeming rushed.

“Rhaenys will murder someone for this, once she's done being worried,” he predicted.

“Good,” Jon snarled.

As they got down to the shore, a terrified Fleur was still trying to get back to the lake, when a gasping, struggling Harry was trying to get two figures with him.

Minisa, who learned the basics of swimming before she could walk, was nudging the little girl- a fucking child, and Aegon was _thrilled_ with this, he really was- into a position where she could help her float as they towed her to shore, and she looked terribly pale, and her lips were blue.

“I know my father or Lysa did not approve this,” he said, in a clear, calm, and carrying voice.

Stumbling up, looking drenched and exhausted, Minisa gave him an uncertain smile, helping Harry get the poor child upright.

“Gabrielle!” her sister shouted, engulfing her in a hug and clearly not paying attention to the blood and ice on her.

Aegon grabbed his brother's wrist. If there had ever been a serious competition as to who would inherit Dragonstone, Jon's temper and stubborn lack of giving a damn made it so Aegon never felt threatened by him. Exasperated, though?

Dammit, if Jon kept losing his temper, Aegon never got to. Someone had to keep his brother in check.

“Aegon,” Harry croaked, looking guilty.

Aegon gave him a careful look, checking for injuries. Rhae and her paramour- and any denials about _that_ would get mocked, at this point- would be asking. “Thank you, for rescuing my sister.”

“I wasn't going to lose her,” Harry said, stubbornly. He was also swaying, a bit, and only a child, the same age as his baby sister.

“We all knew that,” Aegon said, very gently, because he remembered being that age.

“Min, are you alright?” Jon asked, waving a hand and making all the water from the four students turn into a small snow flurry that landed on the ground.

Hermione, dragging Viktor Krum along with her, smiled at them. “Harry, are you alright? Min?”

“I'm fine,” Min said, blinking at them. “Did you really turn into a shark? That was cool.”

“You were meant to be asleep,” someone said, and Aegon gave Minerva McGonagall a sharp smile. To her credit, she sounded both alarmed and growing very furious. “Albus and the others checked to ensure everything went off without a hitch...”

“I could not check for my own students,” Dumbledore frowned. “There was a discussion about it perhaps showing favoritism and a lack of trust in my fellow Headmasters, though I think I may need to continue that discussion. At length.”

Harry had gone, during the course of his talk with Hermione, from clearly embarrassed to furious, throwing an arm around Minisa.

Krum, who had pulled a water beetle from Hermione's hair, frowned. “Someone did not make sure everyone was safe?”

Aegon looked at his brother, who was still fussing over Minisa, probably to keep himself from turning someone into a block of ice. “It does look that way. Or that someone meddled with it afterwards, of course.”

“I thought she was moving before we got all the way up,” Harry managed, yawning. “I was running out of time for the Gillyweed, though, so it was hard...”

Fleur kissed his cheek, then Minisa, who beamed at the older girl. Minisa was very good at cheering people up, he admitted. If it was what her power settled into, that would be interesting. Revelry?

Perhaps they could distract their father with that problem.

~

The morning after the Second Task, there was a portal for them that reminded Hermione of the sea, somehow- she could half hear the crashing of waves and smell salt-water.

“It's Senya,” Min sighed. She seemed much better than she had yesterday, less bloodless. After the lake, there had been something faintly unsettling in her friend, the way she moved, and if she hadn't been tired and freezing, it probably would have been noticeable for more reasons. Viktor had asked if there was something different about Minisa, and even though he seemed more thoughtful than afraid or disgusted, she'd hedged. “Dad must want to test her.”

“It's safe,” Senya said, peering in. She looked as cheerfully healthy as ever, hair back in a shiny pony-tail and wearing a winter parka.

“Your powers make no sense,” Minisa muttered, which Hermione refused to comment on. “Where is everyone?”

“Waiting for you all,” Senya raised an eyebrow. “Dad wants to talk.”

Minisa went chalk white at that. “Oh?”

“Minnie, you know you couldn't keep this all from him forever,” her sister pointed out, “Now, come on!”

“I am going to be in so much trouble,” Min told Harry in an undertone.

They landed on the cove behind Dragonstone, which somehow seemed more forbidding than it had- the dragons carved along the walls seemed like they were preparing to fly from the stone, and there was a creeping mist.

Rhaegar Targaryen was watching them enter his study, framed by his enormous desk of what Minisa had said was ironwood, with old books along the walls and an old tapestry of dragons taking up the opposite wall. A Klimt painting was next to the only window, and it would be interesting, if the shadows were not quite so deep.

“What happened?” he asked. The door opened, and Lysa came in, fiddling with a bracelet, Rhaenys and Sirius at her heels. A tall, slender woman with Rhaenys and Aegon's enormous dark eyes and slightly slivered black hair followed, smiling at them. She was about the same skin tone as Harry, and wearing a very pretty bronze sweater and black trousers. She had an air of casual elegance that contrasted with Lysa's bright carelessness, including Lysa's dangling pink earrings and oversized red sweater that clashed a bit with her hair but made her husband widen his eyes before looking past her.

“Elia,” Rhaegar said, frowning.

“Hello, Rhaegar. Rhaenys told me what happened last night- well, she told Malcolm and Aliandra, because she knows you hate me knowing about your life, but I overheard as I was meant to,” Elia said, settling herself down on a dark leather armchair. “I am therefore hear to keep you from harming our children further, including...” And here she smiled wickedly at Rhaenys revealing a dimple that made her look much younger and much more like her son. She continued in a language that Hermione didn't know, but Rhaenys was turning dark red and scowling into Sirius's shoulder.

“You're not helping your case right now,” Elia said, looking over at her daughter.

“I hate you all,” she muttered. She looked up. “Well, not the children, of course. Or Sirius. But the rest of you.”

“Really not helping your case, love,” Sirius said, and he looked like he was trying not to laugh.

Harry's eyes went wide, and he looked between the pair. Not that their was much between- Sirius was standing directly behind Rhaenys. And really, how did he not notice before?

Honestly, Hermione thought. Boys.

Hermione and Minisa explained about Professor McGonagall taking them aside, the night before the Task, about falling asleep.

“I really don't remember anything until I was taken out of the lake,” Hermione added.

“I sort of remember,” Minisa frowned. “Not a lot, really, but bits. I remember going under- it was like a dream, mostly, except it was chilly.” She rubbed her arms. “I remember more once everyone started coming to rescue the hostages. Gabrielle, Fleur's sister, she kept floating into me, and I remember... you were arguing with the mer-people, weren't you, Harry?”

“I wasn't going to leave anyone behind,” Harry said, blushing and kicking at the hardwood.

“Good on you,” Sirius said, “Your parents... James and Lily would be proud of you, Harry.”

Harry looked up at Sirius with a shocked expression that was a bit heartbreaking. “Really? Even though they had arrangements to get everyone out of the water?”

“You couldn't know they would go off properly,” Elia said, hand on her chin. “Actually, given the to-do over the Goblet and their habit of overlooking the obvious... I think most would see it as a good idea, if perhaps a bit more risky than they'd actually go through with.”

“Fleur thought Gabrielle was in actual danger,” Minisa added, helpfully. “You weren't the only one.”

“Jon had a heart attack, I think,” Rhaenys added.

“Be that as it may, I certainly did not give my permission for you to be involved, Minisa, and I am deeply tempted to withdraw you from school until I can be satisfied about your safety,” he said.

“No!” Minisa stuck up her chin and glared at her father. “Why should I go _now_?”

“Papa,” Rhaenys looked at Harry, then at Sirius. “Please wait?”

“How fast can you get it done?” he asked.

“Well, we were going to discuss it in a few weeks, once Myrielle looked over the paperwork,” Rhaenys looked at Sirius, who nodded. “But we can expedite it, since he is already here. If I play my cards correctly... he may spend a week, perhaps two, there?”

“So we can discuss this more in depth over the summer,” Rhaegar nodded. “Fine, then, though if something happens to your sister, it will be on your head.”

Elia made an unhappy noise. “Lysa, he didn't grow out of that habit?”

“No,” Lysa said, glaring at her husband.

“They'll think you are frightened if I am pulled out,” Minisa pointed out. “That you don't think you can protect me.”

Rhaegar seemed to think about that. “I will require something as recompense.”

“Given what we're going to do,” Sirius pointed out, looking a bit devilish, “I think that will be a big hit to their pride.”

Lysa looked at him, playing with her cuffs. “Are you sure?”

Sirius nodded. “Yeah, if Harry agrees, the idea would be good, but once it got out, it's basically saying we don't trust them with Harry.”

“We?” Rhaegar said, very softly, but he seemed pleased.

“What did you need me to agree with?” Harry asked.

“Well, I can't adopt you, not until my name is cleared,” Sirius pointed out. “And you shouldn't have to stay with the Dursleys, not when you can be safe enough here.” He gave Harry a pointed look. “A cupboard?”

“They moved me,” Harry pointed out, and Elia closed her eyes while Lysa growled something under her breath.

“When they were called out on it,” Sirius continued. “They knew they could get away with things, and so they let themselves be like that- My mother was the same, really.” He paused. “Though less with the cupboard, more time spent with Bellatrix. Which... I might have preferred the cupboard.”

“What he's trying to say, is that I can go to the Dursleys' and start the process of adopting you myself,” Rhaenys said, leaning against Sirius, who was holding one of her wrists loosely and rubbing his thumb in her hand. “Sirius made a bargain, one that allows me a great deal of latitude in helping you, but this would continue that.”

“What kind of bargain?” Harry asked.

“Nothing we didn't hash out fairly,” Sirius said, firmly.

“Far more generously than you deserved,” Rhaegar said.

“He's sworn as my...” Rhaenys bit her lip. “He's...”

“I expect a Christmas wedding,” Lysa pulled a thing of yarn and pink needles from somewhere.

Sirius gave them all an exasperated look. “She's going to be able to meddle a lot more, and be able to do a lot more. In return, she needed someone to be her hands where she can't be. This won't happen until I die, so...”

“Christmas wedding,” Lysa repeated to herself. “You'll be her Christmas knight...”

“I'll forgive you for eloping,” Elia said, shaking her head.

“I wouldn't have to go back to the Dursleys?” Harry asked.

“Perhaps for a week or two, depending on how everything runs,” Rhaenys wiggled a hand. “We're able to wriggle a little bit, with the family.”

“I'd get to stay with you and Sirius?” he continued. The idea of getting to live with Sirius... even if it wasn't the way he had originally thought... he liked the quiet of Stargazer, and it would be close enough to Min if it got lonely. And Rhaenys, he realized, made Sirius happy.

“Yes,” Rhaenys said, firmly. “Even if it doesn't go through, we'll pick you up and if anyone wants to dispute your right to live where you want, they can argue with me.”

  
  


~

  
  


Minisa saw Pansy clutching a copy of Witch Weekly and looking utterly smug, a faintly uncomfortable looking Daphne Greengrass staying with her friends, waiting for Snape to let them into their lesson. Harry sighed, because Minisa with that expression was not going to end well.

It turned to dried moss before it hit Hermione, and Minisa raised an eyebrow.

Parvati gave them a copy after class.

“You couldn't have warned them earlier?” Dean asked, raising his eyebrow at her.

“It wouldn't have helped,” Lavender sighed. “That conniving, sneaky little...”

“I told you that this would go wrong,” Ron said. “She's making you two out to be some sort of scarlet women...”

“My garden's full of pretty men,” Minisa sing-songed, crossing her arms after tossing the magazine at Harry. “Really, Ron, nothing that she can write about me could properly scandalize my father- that's why Jon exists, after all, he decided to knock up a barely legal Stark while Elia was in the hospital after Aegon was born.”

Harry frowned at that- he knew that Jon had a different mum, someone had mentioned that, and Mrs. Stark was Min's aunt, but he didn't think that Min would call her aunt that. And Aegon and Jon were really close in age, closer than Aegon and Rhaenys.

Shaking that off- he'd probably be able to ask Sirius later- he looked at the article and was pretty sure his godfather would be laughing himself sick at this.

“Krum might have actually said that,” he pointed out, hopefully. Hermione blushed at that, shaking her head.

“Really, Harry,” she muttered, carefully not watching Ron's eyebrows knit together and his hands digging into the leather of the armchair.

Harry frowned at the article, which had what looked like a very carefully picked picture of Harry talking with Minisa at the Ball. Minisa looked like... Minisa, with the bold lines of her face and her hair bright and falling a bit wildly over her dress. But also like something that wasn't quite meant for this world.

“Do they really think one of you is dosing me with a love potion?” he asked, wrinkling his nose.

“Of course not,” Lavender said, rolling her eyes. “If you had a love potion, we'd all know it. They aren't very subtle, are they?”

“She wasn't planning on using one, there was a rubbish novel,” Parvati said, not looking up from her Divination homework.

Minisa looked up and at the portrait to the Tower. “Someone should let them in.”

“Let who in?” Dean asked, before it swung open.

Aegon Targaryen helped a woman through. Harry thought she was probably about Lysa's age, and seemed very sharp, from her red-bottomed heels and deep red pantsuit. Her poison-green eyes flitted over them all, settling on Minisa with her untidy braid and the smear of something green from Herbology across the backs of her knuckles.

“Miss Targaryen,” the woman said in clipped tones. “I need to speak with you about this mess.”

  
  


“I didn't do anything!” Min pointed out. “I thought you squished her, anyway?”

“I did speak with her,” the woman said, looking like she bit into a lemon. “But something clearly made her think that I was not serious.”

“How much of it did you read?” Aegon asked.

“All of it,” Minisa bit her lip and looked at her older brother. “So, I'm apparently a demon.”

“Well...” the woman said, and Aegon shot her an annoyed look.

“Cersei, we had this discussion,” he pointed out. “Repeatedly.”

“Quibbling over terminology,” Cersei said, before looking over the room again. “Nowhere to sit?”

Minisa held Harry's arm down so he couldn't get up. “Nope.”

“Little fish,” Aegon rolled his eyes. Neville got up to sit next to Seamus, and Cersei sat down with an unhappy expression. “She is helping.”

“Not very well,” Minisa muttered. “Otherwise Hermione wouldn't be accused of doing love potions and I wouldn't be accused of using dark powers unknown to the Ministry.”

“Well, I highly suspect there is quite a bit about power the Ministry of Magic doesn't know,” Aegon said, pulling over a chair from a study desk.

“Is he supposed to be in here?” a fifth-year asked. Someone shushed him as the students started exiting the Common Room, streaming out as if by some hidden cue.

“McLaggen, that's Targaryen's brother.”

“How thoroughly am I allowed to go?” Cersei asked, after Aegon was seated and only Min, Harry, Hermione, and Ron were left.

“You'll go as far as you think you can get away with,” Aegon said, and he did not seem terribly unhappy about this. “From what my sources are saying, she's literally bugging places she should not, and I am not allowed to let her bring scrutiny upon the Island.”

“That makes sense,” Ron said, thinking about it. “Dad doesn't like her much, but she goes after him a lot, and Dumbledore. Moody, too.”

“Most of them people who can't or won't present a problem,” Aegon agreed. “Something my distinguished colleague understands quite well.”

Cersei didn't seem offended by this. “I suspect the fact that Dragonstone stays so hidden is part of the problem. She didn't see a threat, so she made the mistake of thinking I could not retaliate.”

“She's not supposed to be on the grounds,” Harry remembered. “Dumbledore insisted on it.”

“I hear our friend Bagman didn't like that very much,” Aegon frowned. “A gambler always has debts...”

“No, I don't think so,” Cersei shook her head. “I had to get her to sit on another story, to test what I could do.”

“What story?” Harry asked, pushing up his glasses a bit.

“Some nonsense about your teacher in magical beasts,” Cersei waved it off. “I was assured he has his uses, so we are keeping him close for now. Her story would have made that difficult.”

“Also it was the right thing to do,” Aegon said slowly. “Cersei, this is why I kept pulling the vanishing trick whenever Myrcella was nearby. You forget things like morals, and it makes the rest of us uncomfortable.”

“I recognize they exist, they are just inconvenient,” Cersei sighed. “But Aegon wanted to check and see if this was going to pose a problem for you.”

“No one in Gryffindor seems like they believe it, but I don't know about other people,” Ron answered. He shrugged further into his chair, hair almost vanishing into the leather. “Some of them might be worried. I don't think a lot of people think love potions are a big deal- they get caught too easily.”

Aegon looked at the ceiling and muttered something that made Min's eyes go wide. “And with that horrifying thought, I'm going to see if I can finish tracking down Ms. Skeeter- she's not too far away, and Ser Arthur is working on it.”

Min nodded. “Okay.”

“Is there anything else I need to know about?” Aegon asked, before they left.

Harry thought about Snape's threat with the Veritaserum. He probably would only keep it to the boomslang skin they stole last year and the gillyweed Dobby had given him. Probably. But Snape seemed to think someone else had been rummaging through his office. Well, he thought it was Harry. But it wasn't, so someone was.

Not really. And if he asked about Sirius... he'd probably be sending the Dementors straight to Stargazer.

Plus there was the stuff about Karkaroff. Maybe he should...

He'd write to Sirius tonight. The ravens always seemed to know when he had a letter ready.

Aegon lifted his eyebrows. “Whatever it is, you are going to write to Stargazer?”

Harry nodded.

“That's good enough,” he said, heaving himself up. “Less for me to wrangle, at least. They wanted me to let you know that the process is started, and the Dursleys are not minded to complain too much, not with a very annoyed Uncle Oberyn handling them.”

Min's eyes went wide. “Er.”

“I know, I know, I felt it was overkill, but Rhaenys has that pesky overachieving streak,” Aegon grinned. “We'll be there for the third task, Harry, and you'll probably get a letter before that.”

The question about Rita Skeeter didn't seem to be answered... neatly. An article in the Daily Prophet hinted that when she had been investigating something in Knockturn Alley, something had... happened. The result was that Rita Skeeter was left in the long-term care ward of Saint Mungo's.

When Easter hit, Mrs. Weasley sent Hermione and Min very tiny, very plain eggs compared to the ones she sent Harry and her children. Ron squirmed a bit, and Harry supposed that Rita Skeeter's poison would be a bit harder to deal with than the woman herself.

  
  


~

  
  


At Stargazer Tower, Sirius had set up another meeting, this one for a weekend afternoon. He'd also cooked, mostly because Rhaenys had been out at a site until late transporting remains and was looking exhausted and had nearly tripped down the stairs that morning. He'd nearly called over one of her siblings to make the portal, but she'd shaken her head.

“I could do it this tired with three shots under my belt,” she said, sitting on a stone bench. The flowers were blooming again, and she looked faded compared to them. “I just had...” she yawned. “There was a necromancer, one who wandered in and was causing problems. He should be a nonentity after what I did, but it just took a lot out of me. Fucker had just killed someone. Not getting a lot of sleep while I was dealing with this was another problem- it's why both Uncle Duncan and Lady Sheira had spouses, to balance this shit out.”

“So the way you worded the bargain is hurting you?” he asked, and she paused long enough that he knew he was right.

“It'll even out eventually,” she said, shrugging and opening the portal.

They had turkey sandwiches from leftovers Lysa had sent down, and Rhaenys held a never-empty cup of tea.

“So someone is breaking into Snape's office...” Sirius frowned. Rhaenys was seeming better, at least, eyes a bit brighter. Spring affected her oddly, Elia'd warned him. She was a winter child, and would be fine by June, but never at her best when the flowers started to grow. He'd treat it like Moony after a bad moon, he decided. Make sure she at least at on a schedule, even if it wasn't enough to make him happy, try to push her to nap.

That settled, he focused on his godson, who was doing very well in the Tournament. Probably better than expected, for people who weren't his godfather. He might even win it, though he didn't think he should mention the possibility. He still wanted to keep Harry here, though that wasn't possible.

“Do we think this is all related?” Rhaenys asked, taking another sip of her tea. It was oddly colored and labelled with a three headed dragon in the stores, which meant please don't ask. “From the Cup onwards?”

“As much as I want to say that was purely a crime of opportunity...” Sirius looked at them and frowned. “You know, they are perfectly good sandwiches.”

Harry took a big bite. “Much better than Hagrid's rock cakes,” he agreed, with a smile that was more Lily than James, but still made him sure that he was missing the...

...oh, now he remembered Hagrid's rock cakes.

He huffed, and Rhaenys smiled as she took a much smaller mouthful. “Very good. You don't make mayo soup on bread like Lysa, thank you.”

“Thanks,” Sirius said, rolling his eyes. “So, either way, I think we all agree that there were two parties at the Cup. There were the people who attacked the Roberts, and the person who set off the Mark and set up Winky.”

Harry and Rhaenys nodded at that. “From what everyone said, the Mark made them scatter,” Harry said.

“So, was that the intention, do we think?” Rhaenys tapped out a tune on the wood of the table. “I am inclined to think that was the case, because I can't see it being used to rally them, not with what was going on.”

“Or maybe...” Harry wrinkled his nose. “Could it have been a warning? Go now, before you get caught?”

“Maybe,” Sirius allowed. “I thought most of the Death Eaters who would... Malfoy and his lot were the rioters, the ones who got out of Azkaban through bribes. The ones who wouldn't lie to save their skins, I think they all ended up in Azkaban, though maybe some of them fled the country, but I don't think anyone really did.” He pulled a face at the memories. “People in Azkaban liked to shout when they heard things, I'd probably have heard.”

“Why use Winky, though?” Harry asked. “She was at the Top Box with Crouch, she seemed really nervous then. Did they just grab her when she fled? Or...”

“I can't see Crouch as a Death Eater,” Sirius bit back a lot of the things he wanted to say. Harry was just a kid, and he could vent with Rhaenys or Obara later. “He was very... he was the one who had me sent to Azkaban without a trial. He pushed for the Aurors to be allowed to use Unforgivables, too. Had everything very streamlined, sending people to Azkaban with a lot of efficiency. Didn't know if it was because he hated them or if he hated the idea of people getting around the system. Probably the latter, now I think about it. He was always very outspoken against the Dark.”

Rhaenys had a hand over his wrist, delicate fingers a comforting weight. “So this Crouch was the man?” she said, and there was a note in her voice...

“Don't kill him,” he said, because that would make things harder, probably.

“Could he be investigating Snape?” Harry asked. “Karkaroff isn't being subtle, trying to get Snape to flee with him.”

“Probably for protection, Snape knew more dark spells as a first year than a lot of the sevenths,” Sirius mused. Which was probably a slight exaggeration, but the future Death Eaters of his generation had kept him for a reason. Was Snape actually a Death Eater, though? He'd been creepy, true, and after he and Lily fell out, he'd spent all his time around that crowd... but then why the hell would Dumbledore let him _teach_? “And even if Dumbledore vouched for him- I doubt he didn't know about the Mark- I can't see Crouch actually listening to Dumbledore. He didn't really agree with... anything about Dumbledore, except that Voldemort needed to go.”

“So is he pretending to be ill, to snoop?” Harry asked.

“I can't see it,” Sirius said, “If he's missed a day of work ever, I'd eat my hat. He was very ambitious, Crouch was, tipped to be the next Minister around the time I was locked up.”

“So what happened?” Rhaenys asked, propping her head in her hands.

He took a deep breath, smelling the garden scents through the open window over the sink, feeling the sun on his face. He wasn't in Azkaban, no one was going to say anything about his tale.

Aside from wanting to kill people for him. Which was something he hadn't had for a long time, since James and Lily had died. (More Lily than James, once they'd gotten along. Her temper had been sharper, he'd seen hints of it in Harry, which had to drive Snape mad. James was loyal, yes, but he'd never been as quick tempered.)

“Most of it happened afterwards, I got the story from others. But before... people were vanishing, or dying, and you couldn't trust anyone...” He continued his story, about how Crouch had grown less compromising as time went on, fighting violence with violence. Which wasn't terrible, on its own. What did Rhaenys say, when she was discussing a feud between her relatives and someone? That your ability to throw a fist ended at someone else's face, unless you were ending a fight.

But the Unforgivables... Sirius didn't like the thought of that. He'd remembered growing up with people who thought they were a right, that the only people who mattered were the right sort. There had to be a balance somewhere- using power to defend others, rather than just imposing your will, and making certain you didn't lose yourself in the fight.

James had argued it out well, against Moody a time or two. The memory made this a bit less bitter.

“Except then something unfortunate happened,” he continued, “and his son was found with a group of Death Eaters, attacking a family after Voldemort fell.” He remember Frank and Alice, and the thought of them left in Saint Mungos had been just piling on the horror, even after he learned they didn't have Harry.

“He wouldn't have been merciful,” Rhaenys said, thoughtfully. “He sounds too much like Tywin Lannister for that, and if it was Tyrion he'd have chucked him into the sea himself.”

Sirius nodded- he'd met Tyrion and heard more about the Old Lion, she wasn't too far off. “A brief, courtesy trial, so everyone could see that he didn't put family before justice.” His grin was too bitter, he knew, from the way Rhaenys' hand squeezed a little.

“What happened?” Harry said, with a frown. “If they all liked how much he was working to surpress... oh.” His eyes went wide. “This was _after_ Voldemort vanished.”

“And all everyone wanted was to forget,” Sirius nodded. “Besides, by this point a bundle of former Death Eaters had bribed their way out of jail, and were probably working to bribe their way back into power. Besides, his son died.”

“He died?” Harry asked. “How?” Sirius ignored the faintly worried look on his godson's face for a moment. He'd gotten out- the wizards on staff had been mostly content to ignore him, after the first few weeks.

“Occasionally it takes away your will to live,” he said, rubbing his nose and trying not to think too hard on it. There was a bird singing just outside, he could focus on that. “Can't eat, sleep too much or too little, and... Funny, though, I don't think any of the people with him went like that. Might have been why...”

“Why what?” Rhaenys asked. “Wait... did they feel sorry for the son?”

“Afterwards? Yeah... Family is important to most of the Wizarding World, you see, and when he died, people blamed his father for it,” Sirius said, trying to remember who had come in with the man. A boy, really, he might have been a year or two younger than Regulus had been. “His wife died of grief not long after. I watched them bury his body, just outside my little window.”

“Hang on,” Rhaenys said, perking up with realization. “Didn't Arthur say he was in charge of the international things?”

“Yeah,” Harry said, absently biting into his sandwich. “Percy said he spoke like a hundred languages.”

“Probably not a hundred, not unless he has a spell for it,” Rhaenys frowned. “Dad pushed me into it, and I only speak twelve.”

“Only twelve?” Sirius teased. He'd learned French and Latin, growing up- his father had thought it appropriate.

“I started some of them when I was a baby, he started the rest when I was four,” she said, thoughtfully. “Mum said I tended to get frustrated and try to explain things in Koine Greek when I was five for a while, so magic was probably involved. Part of it, I think, was the mantle- I picked them up quicker than Aegon or Jon, but Jon's better with anything weapon-y and Aegon's better with numbers and people.”

“You're impossible,” he said, shaking his head. “Harry, aside from that, how is everything else?”

  
  


~

Ron frowned after they took the letter up to the Owlery. He'd joked when Harry told them about his visit to Stargazer, and all that he'd learned.

Did Percy actually know about what Crouch had done? Sure, Ron could say that Percy would feed someone to a Dementor to further his career, but would he really? He'd fussed over Ginny second year, and he'd been pretty protective about Minisa when she'd nearly fainted last year. He was stuck up, sure, but did Percy actually know all that stuff about Crouch? Dad had to, and if Dad knew, Mum probably did, and she wouldn't have been happy.

Maybe that was why he was working so hard? Trying to show that he was doing the right thing? Well, he was wrong, Ron didn't doubt that, but from what he saw Percy wasn't being awful about the Tournament. And everyone involved knew that Crouch was sick and sending Percy letters.

He almost didn't get a snack when they went down to the kitchens to thank Dobby- Min and Harry were still torn on the idea of the spell to keep the hostages safe under the water working, or why it didn't work right. Which Ron got- Min and the little girl with her could have drowned if it went wrong, Min clearly showed that she remembered things when she shouldn't, and someone was trying to kill Harry.

And Winky and her misery was another problem. Hermione was focusing on how Winky should be happy now, and completely ignoring the bit where Winky was miserable. Mental, really. Ron got the idea that the House Elves shouldn't be mistreated- his Dad told stories about Muggle Baiting, and Harry's mentioning of Dobby's punishments were scary. But clearly what Hermione was trying wasn't working. The House Elves were happy. So maybe not focus on the happy ones and making them unhappy?

And then Hermione got Bubotuber pus in a stack of angry letters about the incident.

“Minisa didn't get any, though,” Dean pointed out as Hermione was helped by Katie and Angelina to the Hospital Wing.

“It wouldn't have reached me,” Minisa said, and there was that feeling of wrongness in the room, with the ceiling turning a bit green and bruise-like. “And whoever sent that is going to be _very_ unhappy.”

Since Pansy had slid off her chair and halfway through the Great Hall, shrieking, and the Pus had vanished, Ron wasn't going to ask. At all.

  
  


~

  
  


Harry wasn't quite sure what to tell everyone, later.

Well, he wasn't going to share his odd conversation with Krum, who had wanted to make sure he wasn't dating Hermione, and had then started talking about flying, which was fun.

Until they'd found a raving Crouch, who didn't seem to be able to tell when it was, much less where he was. Until he'd started talking about Voldemort.

There was a lot of debate about Snape- while Sirius didn't seem confident that Snape was a Death Eater, Harry thought the evidence rather hinted that he was. He'd kept Harry from reaching Dumbledore in time to prevent Crouch from vanishing and Krum from being attacked.

And Karkaroff clearly thought he was a Death Eater, that was the only thing that made sense.

Hermione wasn't so sure, because they had blamed him before and been proven wrong. But Harry didn't think Snape had put his name in the Goblet- not when he could use Veritaserum and ruin everything, or make a potion malfunction.

Then there had been that... whatever, in Divination. Trewlawney thought he'd had a prediction, and Lavender and Parvati had taken to leaving library books on visions for him. Minisa had snagged some of them and started using muggle sticky notes to add funny commentary.

There was also...

“So,” he told Minisa, because Hermione would lecture him about rule-breaking and Ron was off somewhere with Dean and Seamus. “I may accidentally learned what a Pensieve is.”

“What's a Pensieve, then?” Minisa asked, tucking away the book.

He explained what had happened in Dumbledore's office, about finding the stone bowl and the memory he'd seen. How Snape had been a Death Eater at one point, but apparently turned spy.

“I'm so surprised,” Min had said, trying not to smile. “It makes no sense with everything else.” She paused. “Wait, I thought spies were supposed to be subtle.”

Harry shook his head, and added the bit about Bagman's trial, how he had given evidence.

“Huh,” Min said, wrinkling her nose. “Okay, he's kind of awful, but he doesn't seem smart enough to be a spy. Maybe he's really subtle, though?”

They both thought about it for a while, before tabling it for later.

He told her about the last trial, leaving out who they had attacked.

“Do you think...” she frowned. “Could they involve Dumbledore's suspect list, maybe?”

“Maybe,” Harry frowned. “But Crouch's son is dead, and Sirius would have mentioned if the others got out- they would be higher on his list.”

“True,” Minisa scowled. “People need to stop trying to kill you.”

“I agree,” he said, checking the common room. No one was too close by. “But what do you think about all of it?”

“I think we're missing a very big clue,” she said, “and when we find it, we'll have solved the mystery.”

“Seems too easy,” Harry said, before thinking about when he'd solved his last couple of mysteries and wishing he could take it back.

  
  


~

  
  


When Harry had been told he had family waiting for him before the Third Task, he hadn't been really expecting it?

But Mrs. Weasley and Bill were there, Mrs. Weasley giving him a bone-crushing hug and Bill clapping him on the back and not noticing the bemused look Fleur was sending him. And his dragon-fang earring and scaly boots.

Ron should probably not find out about this, given how he was mooning after her all year. It was her choice, really, and Harry supposed that Bill was more interesting seeming.

“Hey, kiddo,” Aegon said, turning up behind them. “Warning, Step Lysa and Mum are both here with my sisters...”

“Harry!” Mrs. Targaryen enveloped him in a hug, leaving the scent of some sort of floral perfume behind. She was wearing a red swirling skirt that classed with her hair and a black jumper that looked like it matched Mrs. Weasley's, except for the color.

“Hello,” Elia Martell said, smiling at him. “I've met some of the other families here, it's very... interesting.” She shook her head. “I just hope there are no dragons here tonight.”

“Aside from the obvious,” Jon said, coming over. “We'll be in the stands... watching and hoping we actually pay attention and I did remember the binoculars this time, Rhae.”

“I made him pack them,” Senya said, ruffling his hair. “Jon's kind of a flake.”

“Am not,” Jon protested.

Rhaenys, with Padfoot following at her heels, came up. “Do I need to remind you of the stroganoff incident? Or the time you tried to go on a date with...”

“Are we just listing faults?” Jon asked. “Because I know a few...”

“Children, children,” said Lysa. “We're here to support Harry.”

“Who are you?” the man with Cedric asked, somewhere between confusion and annoyance.

“His aunt,” Rhaenys said, winking at him as she buried her hand in Padfoot's ruff.

“We fancied the competitors needed a cheering section,” Elia agreed. “What with someone trying to ruin it for everyone.”

  
  


~

“Something is wrong,” Mum said, and Rhaenys felt a chill. There was something clinging to her ankles, trying to climb up, the old panic driving her. She should be doing something, she should have prevented this, she should have...

They were gone too long, Harry and the other boy, they should have been back by now.

“Harry's back,” Ginny Weasley said, putting down her binoculars. “He has Cedric, but...” She turned pale. “He's not moving.”

“Rhaenys, stay here,” Aegon said, and dashed down the stairs.

Step Lysa was sandwiched between Minisa and Senya, her sisters watching the slowly growing horror with grim faces.

“What's wrong?” the Granger girl asked.

“The boy with Harry is dead, and Harry's been tortured,” Rhaenys said, after a moment. “Who is that teacher with Harry?”

“Professor Moody,” the girl said, shaking her head. “He's our Defense professor.”

“Why is he separating Harry from everyone?” Mum asked in Spanish, and Rhaenys groaned.

“Jon, take a guide and track Harry down, make sure he's going to the Hospital Wing,” she said, firmly. “And I am going to have a very long talk with someone useful.”

Mrs. Weasley, thankfully, made very helpful suggestions.

  
  


~

  
  


Harry honestly was not up for the vindictive glee he should be feeling, as Rhaenys stared steadily at the Minister, who was looking the color of old oatmeal at the moment.

Padfoot leaned against her leg, and she absently scritched his ears.

“I am curious,” she said, and if Harry could hear a river when Min was upset, there was crashing waves and thorns in her voice. “Someone spelled that trophy, correct?”

“Yes,” the Headmaster said. “It was a Portkey. We cannot ban all forms of travel from the school, unfortunately, especially with the spectators.”

“And both boys were taken for some time,” Rhaenys continued, and Harry wondered absently if she had told Sirius she was doing this. He seemed to be very intent on Fudge’s expression. “Which somehow failed to set off an alarm with anyone.”

“How were we supposed to know…”

“Oh, I doubt you know very much at all,” Rhaenys said, with a sharp little smile. Min squeezed his wrist. “Don’t worry, I am very used to cleaning up the messes of your betters.”

Oh, she was furious. Snape was studying her with a mix of loathing and terror that would be brilliant at any other moment, and the rest of them were watching her with at the very least wary curiosity.

“Rhaenys…” Minisa said, sounding like she was warning her sister.

“If Papa came down from his tower to deal with this, it would be worse, little fish,” Rhaenys said, and Harry felt the sudden urge to try and figure out if the shadows were suddenly bigger or if it was the potions. “This is as much mercy as any of us feel like showing before sending Tywin out to bring back the days of dragonsteel and blood offerings. Now, Minister, correct me if I am wrong, but this is hardly the first security failure your little cronies have managed in the past year.”

“Now, see…” he faltered, possibly because her hands and twisted into claws and the whites of her eyes were swallowed up by a void. Or so a bemused Minisa told him, later.

“I see a great deal more than you,” she said, raising her eyebrows. “And one of those boys was killed, the other tortured, and drug off by a man who no one knew was swanning around in someone else’s face.And before he could be questioned, you had his soul destroyed, so we could not answer sundry mysteries. How terribly... convenient, for you."

Harry remembered Moody turning into a man that he'd eventually realized was Barty Crouch Jr, Aegon and Jon swooping in. Fudge stepped back, his bowler hat starting to crumple in his hands. “I don't know what you mean. The dementors reacted to a threat.”

“Like they considered a stadium full of teenagers a threat?” Molly Weasley asked, shoulders stiffening. “Don't think any of the parents forgot who forced those things on the students, and what did they have to show for it?”

“They captured Black, but someone must have helped him escape,” Fudge said, shooting a narrow-eyed look at Harry.

Elia looked up, eyebrows drawn. She'd stayed quiet in the corner with her son, who was watching everything carefully. “The Lord of the Iron Throne does not recognize those charges, given the evidence the children gave. And his confidence in the wizards' ability to govern themselves- especially with you at the helm- is not terribly strong at the moment.”

“And what right does he have to threaten me?” Fudge squeaked.

Rhaenys sighed. “He will not go alone,” she said, pinching her nose. “I just hope you learn to see what is right in front of your face.”

Harry sat up at that, and tried to explain, listing the Death Eaters who had been named and what had happened. Fudge didn't listen to any of them, though, before sweeping out.

“I doubt that will have any real effect once morning comes,” the headmaster warned Rhaenys.

“I had to try,” Rhaenys sighed. “Ah, well. I have work to do. Sirius, I think you can...”

Sirius turned back into human form, giving Harry a tight hug. “Don't ever scare me like that again,” he whispered.

“I don't try to,” Harry pointed out. He paused and looked at Mrs. Weasley, who seemed remarkably unconcerned about the supposed mass murderer in the room.

“Lysa spoke with me about it,” was her response. “How are you feeling?”

“Sore,” Harry said, without thinking.

That prompted a flurry of concern from Mrs. Weasley, Min, and Sirius, and Mrs... Harry had never actually leaned her married name, but Elia produced a flask of something floral smelling.

“I use it on my bad days,” she said, with a wry smile that resembled Aegon's. “It does help, and won't cause any strain on your heart like black tea would. I can't imagine that spell he used doesn't cause any.”

“So, planning tomorrow?” Rhaenys suggested. “If the Ministry continues to be obstructive...”

“They were warned,” Aegon said, looking at them all as if measuring them.

That, Harry reflected as he sipped the flask, should not be reassuring.

  
  
  


 


	8. Knit Into One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The title pairing is Dracula for this one.

Something was wrong with Sirius. Not that Remus could quite put it into words- Sirius was currently worried, fussing over Harry, and looping through things he could be doing. This was all normal behavior, for Sirius.

But he was oddly... steady. Worried, but not raging. Or making wild plans. Or sneaking halfway across the country to find Harry.

He was torn between wanting to shake his friend, drag him back to Grimmauld Place, or... thank Rhaenys for keeping Sirius sane.

If only she wasn't so unnerving. He was trying, though- she seemed to genuinely care about Sirius, and for all of her quirks, Minisa seemed to be a sweet child who was protective of her friends.

Rhaegar Targaryen was another story.

Sirius had been swimming, and Remus rolled his eyes at his friend as he shook his head, water flying from his hair. “What exactly are you up to?”

“Nothing, at the moment- Rhaenys promised me lunch, and she's actually been doing more academic work than cases right now, so I'm happy with that,” Sirius shrugged. “I have a job so I'm not just rattling around here- there's a mechanic shop that does some work on bikes, mostly on cars, though. Mrs. Caron's been running it with her stepson, but he's thinking about shifting his focus and she's thinking about fully retiring, so if they think I learned enough I might... eventually take on more.”

“That's... very mature of you, Padfoot,” Remus said, though that did mean that the request Professor Dumbledore asked of him was going to be considerably harder. “Isn't there a risk that you'll get caught, though?”

“Remus, have you been paying attention to any of this?” Sirius gave a slightly sharper version of the grin he'd almost always worn at Hogwarts. Not with the venom he'd shown towards the end of the war, but still sharp and slightly worrying. “Dragonstone Island is ruled by the Targaryens. Even with that, Elia is really well liked. Aegon is loved. Rhaenys is the oldest child, and is sort of... They'll come to her for the really worrying problems, the ones they don't want to see dealt with by the rest of the family. I... am connected to Rhaenys.”

“Is that what we're calling it, now,” Remus muttered.

“And so they wouldn't betray me, because that would have consequences and the Ministry isn't very well liked by the families with power who are paying attention to this,” Sirius continued, opening the gate and acting as if he wasn't blushing to his ears.

There was something moving down his arm, a trail of dark green with pale splotches that it took a moment to recognize as flowers. More splotches formed, starbursts of dark red that twined around what he was fairly certain was wolfsbane.

He raised his eyebrow.

“There is also magic involved,” Sirius said, shrugging. “It'll come in useful when the fighting starts.”

“Dumbledore wants you in Headquarters,” Remus said, trying not to show anything in his voice. Because he suddenly wanted Sirius far away from here. Even if Sirius looked easy in his skin, with much of the damage that Azkaban relegated to the shadows in his eyes and the way his wand was always at hand.

“That,” Sirius said, “is not going to happen, Moony. I'm staying here.” He snorted. “Look, I gave the headache to Dumbledore so I didn't have to think about it.” He frowned. “Sarella did ask to go through the books, though. Rhae and Aegon swear she won't do anything too risky with them, though. Apparently she's trying to sort out where the magic here and the magic taught at Hogwarts differs.” There was a bench where a bench hadn't been, one with knots and thorny flowers in the stone, with what looked like a blackberry bush surrounding it.

“He's concerned for you,” Remus said. “McGonagall... she's worried about this place.”

“Yeah, I heard,” Sirius frowned. “I think it might be a personality thing- some people can find that this place is brilliant, some people are unable to cope. It probably is more about a love of order or sanity,” he said, thoughtfully. “Rather than anything about brains, if McGonagall didn't like it here.”

“Harry seems fine here,” Remus said, cautiously. Dumbledore also didn't want Harry to visit Dragonstone this summer, though Remus suspected that it was concern over how much the Targaryens had been interfering. Given the comments they'd given, they might help against Voldemort to be a threat in their own right.

Still, they probably shouldn't be leaving Harry all alone. As much as he wanted to believe that Harry's relatives would support him after what happened in the Third Task, Molly had looked dubious and Ron had been... scathing. He'd nearly shouted the Headmaster down, and the Twins had looked mutinous enough they'd spelled the doors to prevent them from running off.

He'd give it another week before they started trying to work around the protections to reach Harry.

“They've taken him in,” Sirius said, and if Remus didn't know better... he'd say Padfoot was about to pull off a very complicated trick.

Ah, hell. He'd just not think about it and try to focus on how much better Sirius seemed to be doing...

...and not what it might be costing his friend.

 

 


End file.
